


Another Brick In The Wall

by Mercy_Rhyne



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse of Power, Angst, Anxiety, Controlling Behaviour, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, If I keep up the ideas I have rn, It is going to get very angsty, Just....., Lots of assholes, Manipulation, More like a.... forced.... hanging around the others I guess, Psychological Torture, Self-Hatred, Verbal Abuse, Very toxic and abusive, Watch out with this fic, You can't really call this a friendship, lots of tags here so beware, lying, might add more later - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-05-18 01:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercy_Rhyne/pseuds/Mercy_Rhyne
Summary: Virgil is sure he is a dark side. He’s not a part of the lighter sides, that is for sure. He doesn’t help Thomas like they do, he doesn’t have a purpose like they do. He can’t be one of them.But at the same time, he doesn’t feel like he belongs with the other, darker sides either. They’re cruel and unpredictable, Virge being their favourite target. It feels wrong, but Virgil can’t quite explain why. It doesn’t matter anyways, because even if he knew, there’s no way he could get away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Physical abuse, emotional abuse, psychological abuse, verbal abuse, mentions of psychological abuse/torture, some claustrophobia, cleithrophobia, nyctophobia, being locked in a small space, self-loathing, anxiety, panic attack, mention of Deceit and mentions of hallucinations

“Open the door,” Virgil muttered softly, leaning against the door, his eyes squeezed shut. “Please. I- I’m sorry. Please… let me out?”

His voice was weak, strained from having protested for what must have been hours. He was sat on the floor of the closet that the other side had trapped him in. It was small and dark and he felt so trapped and he just wanted to get out but he knew he couldn’t get out unless they wanted him to.

The first hour had been the worst. It always was. He’d panic and cry and beg to be let out, knowing that his pleas would have no use. The others never listened. But it was fine. He deserved it for being a nuisance. It was his own damn fault he’d been trapped in there.

To be fair, Virgil wasn’t sure _exactly_ what caused this punishment this time. He remembered being in his own room, in a discussion with the other sides about whether they should let Thomas take part in an audition for a role in Phantom of the Opera – an audition for _the_ Phantom –  or not. Virgil argued against it, as the mere thought of it made his anxiety grow. The Phantom was such an iconic role, there was so much to it, and if Thomas messed it up… it would be a disaster. He would be ridiculed. All eyes would be on him. Everyone would want to see the Phantom. And if Thomas got the role, there would be so much pressure on him. Virgil wasn’t sure he wanted to agree to that. Even just going to the audition would be nerve-wrecking. Who didn’t dream of playing the Phantom of the opera? Everyone would want to try out for the part. There would be _tons_ of competition. How could Thomas compete with that? It would only make him more anxious and insecure, Virgil just _knew_ this.

 

The next thing he knew, the door was forcefully opened, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Virgil flinched as he spun around, just in time to see Pride approaching him quickly, anger burning in his eyes. The anxious side stumbled backwards, until his back hit the wall, already preparing for what was about to come.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” Pride hissed, getting uncomfortably close to the other side. Virgil tried to shy away from the side in front of him, but all his exits were blocked off. Pride placed his hands on either side of Virgil’s head, making sure the other could not escape him. Virgil shook his head, not daring to look up at Pride. Instead, he focussed on the dark red sash the side wore over his black shirt, hoping the dark colour would somehow calm him down. He had no idea if it would work, but maybe, if he had something to focus on, then-

Pride roughly grabbed Virgil’s jaw and pulled his face up, forcing the two of them to lock eyes. “I asked you a question, _Virgil_.”

Virgil tensed up. They never used his real name. They always called him Anxiety. They only used his name if he was in big trouble.

“I- I- I don’t…” the side stammered, as his panic grew and his heartbeat accelerated. “I… I’m sorry. Plea- please don’t…”

He cut himself off before he could finish the thought. His pleas would not be heard anyways. There was no point in trying anything; if Pride had an idea, he would go through with it.

“Please don’t what, Virgil?” the prideful side asked sharply. “ _Please_ , finish your sentences.”

“I don’t… know.” Virgil averted his eyes as he spoke. He couldn’t hold Pride’s gaze for any longer without feeling like he’d burst into tears – not that he didn’t feel like this when he looked down, but it made everything just a _tad_ better.

“You don’t _know_?” Pride chuckled mockingly. “My, you really are useless, aren’t you?”

The prince released Virgil’s jaw from his grip and the anxious side dropped his head, looking at the ground as he waited for whatever the other would subject him to. He hated this so much. He hated the dark sides; he hated this place; he hated _himself_. But obviously, he couldn’t tell them any of that. They’d be angry. And his self-loathing they’d use against him. It was better to just stay silent and accept his fate; that would cause him the least pain – he hoped.

 

The next moment, a hand made harsh contact with Virgil’s cheek. His head snapped to the side as he vaguely registered the stinging in his cheek, but it was oddly numb. Just ignore it, he told himself. It would be over soon. Just don’t show any response.

Two hands grabbed his wrists in a tight grip and Virgil seemed to snap out of his trance, looking at the dark side in front of him with panic in his eyes. It was never good if they grabbed his wrists. It would never lead to good things. Pride was taking him somewhere else so he could hurt him more, he didn’t want to go he didn’t want to get hurt he didn’t want to be here he didn’t want to- he didn’t want to- he wanted to leave why couldn’t he leave why wouldn’t they let him leave?

In his panic, Virgil tried to pull his wrists out of Pride’s grasp. He knew he wouldn’t succeed; the other side was much stronger than he would ever be, but at the moment, he didn’t care, he didn’t register this. All he cared about, was releasing himself from Pride’s iron grip and run. He didn’t know where to run; the other sides never let him go to the other side of the mindscape, where the lighter sides resided, but he could think of something later. Maybe he could go to the light side without them noticing. Maybe he could sneak out.

Pride sighed, hardly impressed by Virgil’s pathetic attempts to escape and held the side’s two wrists in one hand, leaving his other hand free to grab a handful of his hair to hold his head in place. Virgil quickly stopped his struggling and looked at Pride, his eyes filled with fear.

“Listen up, _Anxiety_ ,” the dark side spat, “I am going to give you a choice here, okay? You either cooperate and I will be easy on you, or you don’t and you’re going to have a bad time. Is that clear?”

Virgil nodded, not trusting his voice at this moment. His heart was going faster than before and breathing started to become painfully difficult. He didn’t know where Pride was taking him, and to be fair, he would be fine with never finding out. But he knew he had no choice. He was outnumbered. He had nowhere to run. He was no match for the side before him. Had had no choice.

So he nodded and followed the other side, ceasing his protests.

 

And now he was in the dark. He hated the dark. Nothing good could ever come from the dark. Deceit always played tricks on him. Made him see things that weren’t there because he thought it was ‘funny’ to see Virgil’s frightened reactions.

He was trapped in a closet in the common rooms, hardly big enough for him to stand. He felt the sides of the closet pushing against his shoulders, constantly reminding him of the small space he had been trapped in. Reminding him of the fact that he had been trapped. He wanted to get out. He hated the dark. He hated small spaces. He hated being trapped. He hated _this_.

Virgil had no idea how long he had been there. Occasionally, he would hear the voices of the dark sides passing by and sometimes, he’d try to ask them to let him out. But they never did. They never listened. The anxious side buried his face in his knees, softly sobbing and praying to be let out soon.

 

By the time the door finally opened, Virgil’s limbs were numb and stiff. The lights from the common room blinded him for a second, but when he was used to them, he carefully got out of the closet, fearing there would be another trap waiting for him. But, to his surprise, he found nothing.

When he stepped out of the closet, he remained seated on the floor for a bit, his legs too numb to carry his weight for now. Pride stood next to the closet, eyeing Virgil with a raised eyebrow.

Feeling his burning gaze, Virgil looked up to the side for a second before averting his eyes again.

“Thank you,” he muttered softly, knowing that was what the other was waiting for. His voice was hoarse from the crying and yelling from the past few hours. His throat hurt, and a hand absentmindedly shot up to massage his throat – as if that would ease the pain in any way.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Pride asked with a smirk. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Thank you,” Virgil repeated, a little louder this time. Pride nodded, satisfied with the answer and turned around without a word, leaving Virgil behind.

 

_All in all it’s just another brick in the wall_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: a tiny bit of swearing, (mentions of) psychological abuse, some gaslighting, mentions of making fun of someone’s phobias, degrading, physical abuse, mention of blood, intimidation, bone breaking, (mentions of) psychological torture, hallucinations, descriptions of creepy monsters and creepy voices, (both of those in the hallucinations), pretty controlling behaviour

Virgil wasn’t quite sure how long he was sat there. It could have been a few minutes. It could have been a few hours. He only knew that no one entered the common rooms while he was sitting in there. And he wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

But finally, when he felt like his legs had regained enough strength to carry his weight, Virgil got up. He stopped by the kitchen to get himself some food and small snacks he could easily hide before continuing to his room. The other sides seemed to have a tendency to deny him food if they thought he fucked something up too badly. This had caused the anxious side to create a small hidden stash of food in his room, so he could take some, even if the others would not allow this.

As sides, eating was not a necessity, but it did provide the sides with energy. They could live without food, but it always did refresh them, and Virgil liked to have something to eat after he had a panic attack. It made him feel safer, in its own way.

Once he was safely in his room, Virgil hid the snacks he had taken with the rest of them; in his closet, underneath a bunch of clothes and blankets. It might not be the best spot to hide something, but the others hadn’t found it yet, so it worked. And as long as it worked, it was good enough.

Then, the anxious side sat down on his bed, getting his phone out of his pocket. It was eight pm. Deceit had told him he wanted it to be dark by nine, so he still had an hour to prepare for lights out. An hour to do… well, he didn’t have a lot to do. He usually scrolled through Tumblr for a while. And when he had to turn off the lights, there wasn’t a lot to do anymore. He couldn’t see a lot in the dark, and his phone was off limits too – he had learned that the hard way.

So, he decided to make the best of his last hour with the lights on. After that, he’d probably just try to sleep, so he wouldn’t have to be faced with the dark.

Virgil hated the dark. He suspected that this is where their policy came from, but he couldn’t find the evidence or the energy to argue.

At first, he had conjured up a little lamp to place on the nightstand next to his bed so he would always have some light in his room. The light it emitted wasn’t too bright, so he could still sleep peacefully, but it was bright enough to see a little. At least he wasn’t surrounded by complete darkness.

He kept this lamp around for a couple of years. He was young when he conjured it up and the anxious side liked to stare at it sometimes, so he would be reminded of easier times in the past. It became an item of comfort for him. As the other sides slowly started treating him worse, the lamp still remained a sort of silent comfort. He knew it was stupid to be so attached to a fucking lamp, but it just… helped him in a strange way.

However, after a while, Deceit told him of this new rule he had instilled. It should be completely dark at a set time. The exact time would be established on the day itself.  

And when Virgil entered his room later that day, the lamp on his nightstand was gone.

He asked the other sides about it, but they denied ever touching the lamp. They even denied even having seen the lamp, making Virgil wonder if he had even created that lamp. He knew it was nonsense, because he remembered making it. He remembered looking at it, and he remembered the light it emitted, of course it was real… right?

When he heard this, the anxious side asked the others if they needed it to be completely dark, or if a small light was still allowed, but instead of giving a clear answer, they mocked his question and his fear of the darkness. Saying, it was irrational, dumb, and childish – and those comments weren't even the worst.

After that, Virgil didn’t argue about it. He just did what the other sides told him to, making sure the lights in his room where off whenever the others wanted them to be. He would turn of his lights and then hurry towards his bed with his eyes closed, so he didn’t have to face the dark. And for a while, that seemed to work.

But then, after a few weeks, the hallucinations started. They started as soft sounds and hardly noticeable images. Nothing he couldn’t handle. But slowly, they grew more and more terrifying, amplifying Virgil’s fear of the dark.

So after a while, Virgil conjured up a nightlight, hoping that it would alleviate the stress of night. It wasn’t a big or complicated light. Just a small one he could plug into an outlet. That’s all he needed anyways. But the anxious side couldn't enjoy it for long, as just two days after he had made the little lamp, Disdain found out. He stormed into Virgil's room that night, having noticed the weak light coming from his room; it was supposed to be completely dark after ten pm that night. Virgil knew this but he hoped the other sides wouldn't notice the weak light of the nightlight. Unfortunately, they did.

Disdain entered the room and noticed the small lamp nearly immediately. He looked at the light with.... well... _disdain_ written on his face. He then turned to Virgil with an unreadable expression on his face.

“A nightlight, Anxiety?” he asked with his usual monotonous voice. Meanwhile, he started unscrewing the lightbulb, never taking his eyes off of Virgil. “What are you, a child?”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil muttered, looking down at his bedsheets as he spoke. He hated how the other sides judged him for his fear of the dark. He knew it was stupid and childish and that he shouldn’t be afraid of something as insignificant and as natural as the dark, but it wasn’t as if he could control his fears. He couldn’t decide not to be scared of the dark. Having a night light around helped him a little bit. No matter how embarrassing or childish it might be, if it helped him… it was good, right?

“You know what we said about this, Virgil.” Disdain’s voice was awfully calm and Virgil hated it. He hated it when they were this calm. If they were angry, if they were yelling or screaming, at least he knew what to expect. But if they were this quiet, he never knew what to expect.

"Yes," Virgil answered softly, "I'm sorry."

His fingers played with his purple bedsheets, offering a slight distraction from the stress coursing through his mind- his body.

"You're sorry?" Disdain repeated. Virgil didn't dare look up at the disdainful side, but the sounds of footsteps signified he had stepped closer to the bed. "You disobey our rules and all you can say is that you're sorry?"

The anxious side opened his mouth to - once again - apologise, but closed his mouth before he could, and instead curled in on himself, protecting himself from the other side.

A few seconds later, Virgil felt a weak puff of wind zooming past his head, followed by the sound of glass smashing against the wall behind him. He involuntarily let out a soft whimper as he flinched away from the sound.

"I'll let it slide this one time," Disdain announced apathetically, before he made to leave. "But don't let it happen again."

 

And even though Virgil nodded in frightened compliance, it happened again. Multiple times, even. Over the years, all the other sides had noticed the lights Virgil made. No matter what the anxious side did to try and hide it, they always found out. And they never failed to frighten Virgil when they confronted him on this. Every time the side made a new light, he knew the others would find out. But his fear of the dark got too much for him sometimes, and at least the light would help him for a bit.

And tonight, after Pride had locked him in that closet for that long, Virgil felt like he could need a little extra light in his room. The memory was still fresh in his brain and he felt like being cloaked in a similar darkness would trigger another panic attack - and then there were the hallucinations as well.

So, Virgil conjured up another nightlight. It was a simple one. Just a single lightbulb that emitted a soft glow. He plugged it into the outlet furthest from the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the other sides wouldn't notice it today.

 

By the time that it was nine o'clock, Virgil had plugged in the nightlight and changed into his sleepwear. He spent a few hours scrolling through social media - the screen of his phone on the lowest setting, and hidden underneath the blanket to avoid being noticed- before he went to sleep. By this time, no one had come in yet, asking about the light, and for a moment, Virgil felt a tiny speck of hope flaring up. Maybe they wouldn't notice it today. Maybe he finally did it.

With that thought of hope, Virgil drifted off.

 

It felt like seconds later when the door was opened.

Slightly disoriented by the sudden noise, Virgil sat up, his eyes still getting used to the light that suddenly invaded his room from the outside.

In the dooropening, he saw an outline of someone who could only be Disdain and his body froze. Virgil's eyes swiftly focussed on the nightlight next to his bed, before turning to Disdain again.

The disdainful side locked eyes with Virgil as he made his way to small light. As he moved, Virgil moved away, keeping as much distance between the two of them as possible without leaving the bed.

Silently, Disdain grabbed the nightlight and unplugged it, now leaving only the light that came in from the hallway as the lone source of light. Virgil could vaguely see the other side, the vague light accentuating his horns and long, claw-like nails. Virgil waited for him to say something. Anything. The tense silence between them seemed to last forever and he just wanted it to end. Silence was worse than yelling. It meant something was going to happen. He hated it.

“I think we might have to start cutting off your electricity again,” the disdainful side announced with his usual indifference. “Because obviously, we cannot trust you with this.”

“No,” Virgil protested softly, lifting his head so he could look at Disdain with wide eyes. Cutting off the electricity in Virgil’s room was something the other sides did for a while to make sure everything stayed dark in his room. Virgil didn’t know when they stopped doing this, but on one particularly bad night, he decided to try making another nightlight. It was a move out of desperation, really. He was feeling extremely anxious that one night and he could not bear to deal with the darkness in his room. It seemed to weigh so mch heavier on his chest that night and it suffocated him. So he had created a nightlight as a final hope, and to his surprise, it worked. For that one night, it had sufficed. Deceit found out the next night, though. It was easy to say he wasn’t exactly amused. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry, I… I can’t help it but I…”

“You aren’t a child anymore, Anxiety, get over yourself,” Disdain said as he clutched the lightbulb tighter, smashing the glass with his sharp nails.

Virgil jumped as the glass of the light bulb shattered, shooting through the air, littering the floor and bed. Disdain dropped the remains of the light bulb, hardly paying attention to it as he approached the trembling side on the bed.

"You know the rules, Anxiety," Disdain stated simply as he stepped closer.

"I- I know," Virgil stammered with a nod, stumbling back. "B-but... please, I..."

"I think we were quite clear on this," Disdain interrupted as he grabbed Virgil's jaw, his claw-like nails digging into the other's skin. Virgil just nodded, too afraid to make a sound. He was fairly sure the other’s grip on him was strong enough to pierce his skin and draw blood; he did not care for more injuries today.

"Then don't let this happen again." Disdain pulled Virgil a little closer as he spoke. Suddenly, his hand jerked to the side, causing Virgil to tumble off the bed. The anxious trait yelped as he felt something in his wrist snapping, but Disdain hardly acknowledged this, instead delivering a blow to Virgil's stomach. He then kicked Virgil in the ribs, twice.

“You’re lucky it’s late, Virgil,” Disdain told the weaker side as he turned around, regaining his calm composure. “But don’t let this happen again.”

Virgil couldn’t respond as the disdainful trait made his way out of the room. He felt like the pain in his chest was too much for that. It felt strained, an invisible weight pushing down on his chest, nearly crushing his lungs. Breathing felt heavy and, for more reasons that just this one, Virgil wished he could stop breathing for a while.

With a groan, the side pushed himself up with his uninjured hand. His left wrist hurt like hell, but his hand felt weirdly numb.

When he managed to stand up, Virgil tried to find his way to the bathroom connected to his room. After he found the door, he got in and closed the door behind him. Only then did he turn on the lights. He didn’t want to risk one of the other sides seeing the weak light from the bathroom.

Immediately, Virgil looked down at his left wrist, carefully grabbing his arm as he did so. The wrist had swollen and when he tried to move his fingers, Virgil found that he was hardly able to do this, and his weak attempts hurt like hell. He also noted a bruise beginning to form itself on his wrist. The pain had not subsided since his fall.

Biting his lip in a futile attempt to distract himself from the pain in his wrist, Virgil searched for the strongest painkiller he had – just some aspirin; that was all he was allowed to have, really. He got two of the pills – which proved to be a challenge with just one hand – and some water to take them with. If only this would help.

Carefully caressing and supporting his left wrist with his right hand, Virgil made his way back to his bed. He made sure to avoid the side of the room littered with glass and made a mental note to clean that up the next day.

The anxious side felt his way to the bed and carefully sat down. He had no idea what to do with his wrist. He didn’t know how to treat his injury or what to conjure up – and besides, he didn’t know what the other sides would say if he would make something without their permission. They never were fond of him conjuring up things himself. He would have to ask one of the others about a cast later, he thought. As he did so, Virgil made a mental note to ask one of them for stronger painkillers if he did ever bring this concern up.

With a sigh, Virgil leaned his back against the headboard, putting his feet up on the bed. He was scared that sleeping might mess up the fracture of his wrist, as he had nothing to support him as he moved around in the night. That’s why he had made the decision to try and stay awake, if he could manage. It would be tough, especially considering that it would be dark in his room constantly and he would have to deal with the darkness for the rest of the night, but he had no other choice. Maybe he could pull through it for once. Just this one time.

At first, Virgil kind of succeeded at this. He was on edge the entirety of the night, but he managed to stay awake. There was nothing to terrify him. Sure, a sudden noise, or a shadow outside his room startled him every once in a while. But nothing came into his room, there were no creatures, no voices. It was strangely okay for once.

However, a little later that night, the hallucinations resurfaced again. At first, the anxious side heard footsteps from the hallway, approaching his room. He wasn’t sure if those were real footsteps or not, until they continued into his room, drawing closer and closer. That's when he realised it was a hallucination. And even though he knew they weren’t real and that nothing would happen, his heartbeat accelerated, even when the side tried to tell himself that no one was there. His mind wouldn’t listen.

Then, he started hearing soft whispered voices. He couldn’t make out the words, but they made shivers run down his spine. It was as if they were everywhere. In front of him, behind him, next to him. These voices were some of the worst hallucinations for the anxious trait. Not only did they frighten him, they also made him extremely uncomfortable. The whispers felt so close to him, like they were whispering in his ear, and it made him shiver, and he wanted to get away from them, though he knew they were fake and thus he couldn’t. They would follow him wherever he went. He hated it.

And a bit after _that_ , he started to see things. It didn’t matter if his eyes were open or closed; he could always see things. The images never left, even when he closed his eyes. They haunted him. Eyeless creatures with big, sharp teeth. Faceless monsters with long claws. Terrifying beasts with long arms that reached out to him, slowly getting closer. Sometimes, he would even feel their claws or hands caressing his cheeks, their fingers combing through his hair. And no matter how he tossed and turned, he still felt them. Even if he hid under his covers, he would feel it. They weren’t real; nowhere was completely safe from them. And it terrified him.

Even if he managed to fall asleep, those creatures would often haunt him in his dreams. Virgil wasn’t sure if it was Deceit’s doing, or his own mind recreating the horrible images he saw. All he knew, was he that those terrors followed him everywhere. And it terrified him.

Even when he was in the common rooms, even when the lights were on, the hallucinations followed him. They weren’t always _there_ , but they would haunt his mind. Every unexpected noise startled him, every shadow looked unsettling to him. Sometimes, he would think someone approached him and he would instinctively flinch back, only to find out that it was nothing. Even when he was safe, he didn’t feel safe. And it terrified him.

 

_All in all you’re just another brick in the wall_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disdain belongs to @novaedream on Tumblr, based on a post they made that I can't link here but which is amazing art of Disdain, I hope I didn't totally mess up his character haha


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: a few swears, mentions of being laughed at, reference to sort of blackmailing, intimidation, purposely triggering someone, panic attack, psychological abuse, mocking, degrading, self-loathing. I think that’s it but please, let me know if I forgot anything!

The next morning, Virgil awoke with a dull ache in his neck. Apparently, he had fallen asleep – which makes sense, because he… _woke up_. He heard vague voices on the hallway, signifying that the other sides had woken up and it was safe for him to come out of his room. Well… safe… that was debatable.

Virgil got up, moving his head a little, hoping this would get rid of the pain in his neck. His right hand reached for the phone on his nightstand and hid it in the pocket of his hoodie as he made to leave his room. The anxious trait had made it his first goal to ask one of the others about the best thing to do for his wrist. Surely, at least one of them had to know what to do.

The pain in his wrist had subsided a little. But just a little; it still hurt like hell. That couldn’t be good, Virgil knew. He just hoped someone could help him – and that they _wanted_ to help him in the first place. And from experience, Virgil knew the second point would prove to be the biggest problem.

When Virgil stepped inside the kitchen, he could see the four other sides sitting at the table. He didn’t look at them as he approached the fridge, hoping to get some breakfast before being confronted with the others. But, as he only had one hand to actually work with, his struggles were quickly noticed. Virgil had successfully got a bowl for the cereal he usually ate for breakfast. Getting the box of cereal and the milk wasn’t exactly a challenge either. But after that, it became more difficult. Opening the box was nearly impossible, and opening the bottle of milk even more. Virgil was painfully aware of the mocking gazes burning into his back and the stifled chuckles as he struggled to make his breakfast. Of course, no one offered to help. Why would they?

As Virgil had prepared his breakfast, he sat down at the breakfast bar, far away from the other sides. He struggled to eat the meal he had prepared, but he wouldn’t let it show. At least, he tried not to let it show. As he ate his breakfast, Virgil was very aware of the four others talking under their breath, their chuckles and the glances they shot him. He had no idea what they were saying, but he was pretty sure it was about him. And if it was about him, it was never good. Of course, there was a chance that they weren’t talking about him at all, but they were just messing with him, but Virgil wasn’t sure if that would be _better._ Whatever they were doing, Virgil just knew they did it because they were aware of the effect it had on their fellow side. They were just doing it for fun. To get a reaction out of him.

And Virgil hated to say it, but… it was working.

He tried to focus on the food in front of him; he tried his best not to focus on the sides. It wasn’t worth it, he told himself. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of his response. But he was so scared of what they were saying, and their laughs unnerved him, and he just wanted them to _stop_.

And as he couldn’t ask them to stop, Virgil decided to leave as soon as he had finished his cereal. Without a word, he walked towards the door, but when he put his hand on the doorknob, the anxious side remembered the questions he was meaning to ask. He knew he had to ask those questions now, but he was so afraid to do it. He didn’t want to face them, but he had to, if he wanted to get a treatment and painkillers for his wrist.

“Aw look at the little deadhead trying to figure out how to use a door,” Pride called smugly.

“You need to pull, sweetheart,” Lust added with a grin as he leaned back in his chair. Virgil closed his eyes for a few moments. He was used to their remarks, but that didn’t mean they stung any less. It was difficult to convince yourself you’re worth something when you only ever got remarks like these thrown at you.

“I- eh, I actually… had a- a question,” Virgil said softly. With those words, he turned around so he was facing the four other sides, and he looked at them for a second.

“You did?” Deceit asked with an amused smile on his face. Virgil nodded and looked down as the snake-like side chuckled, approaching the other. “Well, let’s hear it then.”

When he was close enough, trapping the other between himself and the door, Deceit placed two fingers under Virgil’s chin, tilting his head upwards so he had to look at the other side. The smirk on Deceit’s face was nearly enough to make Virgil back out, but he knew he needed this. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to respond.

“I- yesterday, I… I’m pretty sure I broke my wrist,” he started, hastily glancing at Disdain, who leaned back in his chair with an unreadable expression. Then, Virgil returned his attention to the side in front of him. “And I… could use some… treatment of some kind.”

Deceit looked down at Virgil’s wrist, which had started to swell and bruise more since the night before. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. The deceitful side nodded, lost in thought.

“Very well,” he nodded finally, way sooner than Virgil would have expected. “I can get you something.”

He made a gesture to Virgil’s wrist, creating a cast around it. The anxious side looked at the cast, taking any chance to tear his eyes away from Deceit. He was about to open his mouth to thank the other, to ask for some stronger painkillers for his wrist, but before he could do any of this, he was interrupted by Deceit.

“But don’t make me change my mind, Anxiety,” he announced, before turning away. Virgil shook his head.

“I… won’t,” he replied softly. “I- thank you.”

He hated feeling so vulnerable and useless. The other sides always made him feel like this, and he just wished they would stop this. He knew it wasn’t right – or at least, he believed it wasn’t right. But how could he make them stop this? He was outnumbered. He couldn’t do anything.

“Oh, Anxiety,” Deceit stopped Virgil, just before he left the room, “lights out at eight tonight.”                                                                                                                          

 

A few weeks had passed. Virgil’s wrist slowly started healing, and surprisingly, not once did Deceit take the cast away. Sure, he threatened with it a lot, but he never actually went through with it. Virgil would not let it get that far. He needed this thing, so he would make sure he could keep it, no matter how much he hated this.

All of this particular day, Virgil felt horrible. He felt anxious and just… _bad_. The others seemed to notice this from the moment he walked into the common rooms. They didn’t comment on it, but Virgil just knew that they saw this. It was little things in their posture and their glances that gave it away. And the knowledge put Virgil even more on edge, if that was even possible. He was sure they were going to take advantage of the situation, he just _knew_ it. but he didn’t know when, or what they would do. Every sudden noise or movement startled him. It was horribly unnerving, and as soon as Virgil had finished his breakfast, he got out, without a word. He didn’t care about what the other sides would say; he just wanted to get away. He just wanted to get to the relative safety of his room.

But when he stepped out into the hallway, the anxious side heard someone following him. His heart sped up and he waited for one of the other sides to confront him.

“Why the hurry, Anxiety?” Lust. Great. Exactly the side Virgil wanted to be faced with at that exact moment. Instead of responding, Virgil kept his eyes locked on the floor and just kept walking. He knew it was stupid and that he should answer the question, that this could get him in trouble, but he feared that not a sound would be able to leave his throat. The anxious side just hoped he would be able to get to his room and close the door before Lust approached. He knew the other sides did not want him to lock his door, but maybe he would do it now. Escape to his room, lock the door and maybe hide himself in the bathroom, just to be sure. The others didn’t like him doing this, but he felt like it was the best thing to do for now, as he was already on the verge of a panic attack as it was.

But just before he could get to his room, his left wrist was grabbed roughly, eliciting a soft yelp from Virgil, as a sharp pang of pain shot through his wrist. In one swift movement, he was spun around and pushed against the wall. Virgil groaned as he was forced into the wall, feeling that it would leave a few bruises.

“You know it’s rude to ignore someone, Virgil,” Lust hissed, his face uncomfortably close to Virgil’s. The anxious side tried to get as far from the other as possible – which was difficult, considering that Lust had practically trapped him against the wall, arms on both sides of his shoulders, almost touching him, but not quite. “I asked you a question, airhead.”

Virgil closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths before he responded to the side’s question.

“I wasn’t- I’m not feeling… great,” he mumbled, not daring to look up. He felt Lust’s surprisingly soft fingers brushing his cheek and instinctively pulled away, but the other side’s fingers seemed to stick to Virgil’s skin.

“And you didn’t come to us for help?” Lust asked as his hand cupped Virgil’s cheek. “I am hurt, Virgil.”

Virgil hated it when they used his name. It had grown to have a negative connotation. Negative wasn’t even a word strong enough for the situation. He felt so shitty every time they used his name and he knew that it was wrong and it was horrible, but it was reality. A shitty reality, but a reality nonetheless. Sometimes, he just wished he didn’t have a name at all. Then he wouldn’t have this problem.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said softly. He hated saying that. The words felt like poison to him at this point, stinging every time he uttered them. But what else was he supposed to do? Keep those words to himself and risk them hurting him even more? No thanks. He would rather die.

“Apologies accepted,” Lust grinned, his hand now brushing Virgil’s fringe out of his face. “Good boy.”

Virgil shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt so _sick_. Because of Lust’s proximity, his words, his tone, his touch. Everything about the side before him made his stomach lurch and twist. He just had to get out. He was on the verge of a panic attack and he didn’t want to break down in front of one of the other sides. They would laugh at him, mock him, make his panic worse instead of trying to help him. It seemed to be _funny_ to them, to see him in a state of total terror, unable to do pretty much anything. It was _amusing_ to them in a strange way. His room was Virgil’s only place where he could safely break down. Though ‘safely’ was relative. Of course, there was always the threat of one of the other sides walking in, but if he really had to, Virgil could hide himself in his bathroom and lock the door. If he was in luck, no one would disturb him there. But there was no guarantee.

With his right hand, Virgil weakly pushed against Lust’s chest, trying to get the other to move, so he could get out and escape to his room as quickly as possible. He managed to push the other side back a little, but before he could run away, Lust had grabbed both of his wrists, tightly. Virgil gasped as the same pain as before shot through his left wrist, all the way up to his shoulder. It hurt him so much, but Lust didn’t care. Of course he didn’t.

Automatically, Virgil tried to pull his arms free from the restricting grip of the younger side, which only led to a worse pain rippling through his body, and so he quickly gave up his protests. He just hung his head as the other side pulled him closer. Virgil let out a weak whimper, but didn’t respond.

“You weren’t gonna leave, were you?” Lust asked, pulling Virgil’s hands a little closer to his chest.

“Please,” Virgil responded, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, please… I can’t…”

“But I thought we were having such a good time!” Virgil closed his eyes. It was hopeless, wasn’t it? He wasn’t going to get out anyways. Lust was not going to let him go. It didn’t seem like it, at least. Lust chuckled as he looked at the anxious side. Virgil was trying his best to stay calm, but he was panicking so much, and he couldn’t think straight. It was best to just let the other side do whatever he was going to do; that way, it would be over soon – sooner than if he protested, at least. Virgil knew this, but the prospect of undergoing this seemed so unbearable. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

Lust mockingly pressed his lips to Virgil’s knuckles, making sure to keep his eyes trained on the anxious side, so he could see his reaction in perfect detail. It filled him with an odd delight to see Virgil squirming and trying to get away, visibly trying to stop himself from panicking too much – and failing. He grinned broadly at the other, who had turned his head away in an attempt to block the side out. Futile, he knew, but it was the only thing he could do. He was defenceless in a situation like this. There was nothing he could do, he knew that. Both of them knew.

With a grin, Lust released Virgil’s hands, now moving to cup his cheeks.

“I never understand why you are so scared all the time, Virgil,” he commented, “we’d never do _anything_ to hurt you. You’re a strange guy, little one.”

Virgil shook his head, trying to turn away from the side before him, but Lust’s hands prevented this. He felt so trapped in that moment. Unable to look away. Unable to leave. Unable to do _anything_. There was hardly any distance between the two of them, and it made the anxious side so much more uncomfortable. It wasn’t as if the other four sides gave a crap about it, though. In fact, they seemed to strive to make him as uncomfortable as possible. Because it was funny to see him trying to get away.

“What? Don’t you believe me, tiny grumblebee?” Lust asked, his voice sickly sweet, almost as if he was talking to a kid, as he noticed Virgil’s reaction. He grinned and pulled the other side a little closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The anxious side froze at the touch, his mind trying wildly to think of what to do while _not panicking_. But he couldn’t stop himself. He was just so… he couldn’t stop… he had to…

His rational thinking seemed to have clocked out as he grabbed one of Lust’s wrists with his good hand and pulled it away from his cheek, giving him the chance to run away from the side in front of him, in the direction of his room. Lust yelled something at him, but it sounded far away, like he was under water.

 

With shaking hands, Virgil grabbed the doorknob and opened his door, running into his room. His chest aching, his vision blurring. He shook his head as if to dismiss the tears rolling down his cheeks. Blindly, he found his way to his desk, where he knew he had last placed his headphones. He _needed_ music right now. It was the only thing that really kept him sane. It helped him whenever he was having a panic attack – like now. The side had made sure to place his headphones in the same place every time, so he wouldn’t have to search around for them, and he could get them as soon as he needed them. He had found that it really helped him if he was on the verge of a panic attack.

But they weren’t there. They were not on his desk. Not underneath a few papers, not on the ground, not in one of the drawers.

Virgil felt his lungs tensing up when he realised. Had he misplaced them? No, he was sure he put them on his desk when he had used them the last time. He even checked this, multiple times. They had to be there. They just had to be.

When his search did not result in him finding the headphones he needed, Virgil walked over to his nightstand, searching his drawers for the object. But nothing.

Had he really misplaced them? Maybe he had left them in the common rooms? Virgil knew he would never do this, but it was the only thing he could think of. His headphones were nowhere to be seen and he was panicking, he was panicking so much.

Finally giving up on his search, Virgil collapsed on his bed, pulling the blankets around him, shielding him from the outside world as his breathing sped up. God, he needed his headphones, he needed music. It could give him something to focus on other than his own panicking. It could help him calm down. It always did help him.

Sure, he could put on some music without using his headphones, but he knew the other sides didn’t want him to. They didn’t want to have to hear his music all the time. That’s why Virgil always listened to his music wearing headphones.

But maybe, if he listened to it on a low volume… maybe he would be able to pull it off. Maybe they wouldn’t hear him if he put his volume on the lowest possible setting.

Luckily, Virgil always kept his phone with him, so he just had to search for it in the pocket of his hoodie, unlock it, and start playing a playlist.

With his eyes closed and his blanket wrapped around him, Virgil listened to the soft notes of The World Is Ugly. For a while, it worked a bit. It gave him something to focus on and Virgil tried to get his breathing back to normal. But then, he heard the door of his room opening. Immediately, the little progress he had made, dissipated. The anxious side quickly sat up, his shaking hand blindly searching for his phone to stop the music he was listening to. His other hand reached up to wipe the tears and eyeshadow stains away from his cheeks.

As the sounds of music died away, Virgil turned to the door, to find out who was standing there. While Virgil’s vision was blurred and hindered by tears, the outlines of the figure could only lead to Deceit.

“You know our rules, Virgil,” he said slowly. Virgil nodded, looking down. His hands nervously toyed with the sleeves of his black hoodie as he tried to calm himself down. But the panic was too much. He knew Deceit didn’t like this, he knew he had disobeyed their rules. He knew they wouldn’t let that slide.

“I- I… sorry,” the anxious side managed between rushed breaths. “I just… could- could- couldn’t find m-my-”

“That is no excuse,” Deceit interrupted impatiently as he walked closer to the side who was set on the bed. “We have been clear on the rules. Or was it too difficult for you to understand? Was that it, Virgil? You didn’t understand?”

The deceitful side cocked his head to the side with a grin at this question. Virgil shook his head, pulling his knees closer. He hated it when Deceit talked down to him like this. He wasn’t stupid, but still the other side seemed to enjoy treating him as such. Of course he fucking knew what they meant, but he had no other choice did he? His headphones had suddenly gone missing, so it wasn’t as if he could listen to music in a different way. It was his only option, really.

He just wished Deceit would leave him alone. He wanted to be alone, so he could focus on his breathing, get himself out of this stupid panic attack. Deceit would only make the situation worse, with his presence, with his words. He seemed to know exactly what to do to make Virgil feel even worse, even when the anxious side didn’t think that was a possibility. It was his talent, it seemed.

It was quiet for a while, and for one moment, Virgil hoped Deceit had left. Carefully, he looked up, but it was too good to be true. The deceitful side was still there, smirking down at the younger side.

“You know,” Deceit started off slowly, as he approached the bed Virgil was sitting on, “I never understood how you can get so worked up about nothing at all. You freak out about the smallest of things, even if it’s not worth freaking out about. It is the one thing you’re really good for and you can’t even do that correctly. I have got to admit it; that _is_ quite impressive.”

Virgil whimpered softly as he tried to make himself even smaller, if that was even possible. He wasn’t in the mood for one of Deceit’s ‘peptalks’. He didn’t need someone else to remind him that he was a horrible excuse of a being. Or to remind him of how pathetic and idiotic he was. He already told himself those exact words any time he did anything at all. He didn’t need another reminder.

“A bit pathetic, though, isn’t it?” Deceit continued. He sat down on the bed and his hand absentmindedly played with a few strands of Virgil’s fringe. “To be so worthless at anything that you can’t even do your job correctly. Must be tough.”

His gloved hand stopped playing with Virgil’s hair, instead lightly caressing the other side’s cheek with his fingertips. At this touch, the anxious trait turned away, burying his face in his legs, trying to hide from Deceit.

“Oh, but… you probably want to be alone, don’t you?” the deceitful side seemed to realise, pulling his hand away from Virgil’s cheek. Virgil carefully raised his head, looking at Deceit. He wanted to agree with this, he really did, but he didn’t respond. Not just because he felt like he was physically incapable of responding, but also because he didn’t want to tell the other side this. He feared that, if he confirmed, Deceit would only stay around. It wasn’t as if the others every did what he wanted, after all. They didn’t really care about what he wanted. Hell, they didn’t even care about _him_.

“I understand that, I do,” Deceit continued slowly getting up from the bed, “so I will leave you alone.”

Virgil felt relief flooding him at the prospect of being alone, but nearly immediately, he knew this wasn’t all. This was Deceit; he wouldn’t just… leave like that. There had to be a second part to this, he just knew.”

“But,” Deceit said, confirming Virgil’s suspicious as he grabbed Virgil’s phone before the other side could do anything, “I’m taking this.”

 

_All in all it was all just bricks in the wall_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: a few swears, intimidation, invasion of personal space, self-deprecation, verbal abuse, physical abuse, suffocation, choking, strangling, stabbing, blood, (mild?) gore, references to/implications of verbal and emotional abuse. Let me know if I missed something!

There were two doors in Virgil’s room. Well, actually, there were three. Two white and one black. The black door led him to the hallway that would allow him entrance to the common rooms and the other sides’ rooms. One of the white ones was a door to his bathroom. The other was a mystery. It had been locked for as long as Virgil could remember and the other sides would not tell where it would lead him.

Sometimes, Virgil would press his ear against the door, and he would hear vague voices in the distance. They sounded muffled and very far away, though sometimes they would be clearer, closer. Virgil could never make out the words, no matter how he tried. He wondered who those voices belonged to. He reckoned it had to be the other sides, on the other side of the mindscape, but he never found out. And even though he was curious, nearly dying to find out what would be on the other side of the door, Virgil never asked. He suspected at least one of them would know – someone locked the door, after all – but he did not dare bring it up to them.

But his curiosity never faded. He was _dying_ to know what the door was hiding from him, even if he knew the chances of him finding out were slim.

On one particular day, Virgil was sitting in front of the door, ear pressed against the light wood in an attempt to decipher the voices he heard coming from the other side. They sounded light and warm, but their words remained a mystery to him.

There was a part of Virgil that wanted to be there with them. Those mysterious voices. There was a part of him that felt like he belonged there, instead of here. But surely… that wasn’t right. If he didn’t belong with these guys… where _did_ he belong? No, he belonged here.

Suddenly, the black door was opened and Virgil scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, turning around to see who had stepped inside his room this time. It was Pride, who apparently had not yet noticed the anxious side hastily stepping away from the door.

“Anxiety I- what were you doing over there?” he asked, interrupting himself as he saw what the younger side was doing. “What were you doing in front of that door?”

“I- nothing,” Virgil replied quickly, his voice shaking as he saw the other side slowly walking closer to him. He instinctively took a few steps back, until he felt the wall behind him.

“Are you sure of that?” Pride inquired, walking closer and closer to Virgil, until they were hardly a few inches apart. “Are you sure you weren’t trying to get out without us knowing?”

“N-no,” Virgil breathed, shaking his head. “I wasn’t, I- I promise.”

“Of course you weren’t, honey,” the older side mocked, his voice nearly sounded like he was talking to a child. The older side looked down at Virgil, keeping their eyes locked. “Because we told you to stay away from that door, and you wouldn’t _dream_ of disobeying, would you?”

“Of course not,” the anxious trait mumbled, shrinking away from Pride as much as he could, “I wouldn’t dare.”

Pride chuckled softly as he leaned forwards a little to rest one of his hands on the wall above Virgil’s head, nearly closing the younger side in completely. The sound of his laugh was cold and harsh, terrifying enough for Virgil.

“I see we’re influencing you, Virge?” the prideful side asked, a hint of cold, forced amusement in his voice. “But listen up honey, don’t lie here, okay? That’s not _your_ job, so you should not even bother. Though I need to admit, I do enjoy you being so, eh- _submissive **.**_ Why can’t you be like this all the time? That way, we might actually _like_ having you around.”

Virgil closed his eyes, trying to remind himself to take deep breaths and to ignore Pride’s words. He was just saying this so make him feel bad, because it was funny to see how he’d react to words like those. If he didn’t react, Pride wouldn’t enjoy it as much. But it was much simpler to tell himself that than to not react. Because Virgil knew it was true. He knew he was a nuisance and that the others would be better off without him. He knew they hated him nearly as much as he hated himself. They weren’t exactly subtle about it. And Pride himself did not make this any easier. Because, even though his voice was calm, Virgil could hear the cold harshness hidden in it. He knew the other side well enough to recognize that, while his façade was calm and collected, the side himself was all but.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” Pride cooed, as his other hand came up to cup one of the anxious side’s cheeks. “We both know it’s no fun when you’re like this. I’m just asking you a question. What were you doing in front of that door?”

“I- it was… nothing,” Virgil pleaded, too scared to look up at the older side in front of him. “I- I swear, I wasn’t-”

“Don’t. Lie. To me,” the prideful side demanded harshly. His voice was the only thing that changed about his demeanour, but it was enough to make Virgil want to curl up in a ball and hide himself from the other.

Virgil shook his head, instinctively raising his hands to protect his face from the other side. He was so, _so_ afraid of what Pride would do, but he… he couldn’t get himself to speak up. Not now.

With a soft, but threatening growl, Pride dropped his two hands. Not even two seconds later, they shot up again, wrapping themselves around Virgil’s throat as he lifted the smaller side, just enough so his feet were lifted off the ground.

Immediately, Virgil grabbed the two hands of the other side, trying to pry them off. He knew that his struggling would make this situation worse for him, but at the same time, he was too panicked to listen to whatever reason he still possessed.

“I am waiting, Virgil,” Pride taunted as the other struggled to breathe.

“I- I was just… li- listening,” Anxiety finally confessed breathlessly. His lungs seemed to be burning as they tried to take in the oxygen they so needed, failing at this. “But p-please, don’t-”

“You were _listening_?” Pride asked, not yet ready to let Virgil go. “You got so worked up over that? My God, just when I thought you couldn’t get any more pathetic!” The side grinned devilishly as he leaned just a little closer. “Now tell me, maggot, did you hear anything interesting back there?”

Virgil shook his head, focussing all his attention on getting Pride to release him. _He couldn’t breathe he had to breathe he couldn’t breathe he was dying he was going to die like this he was going to diehewasgoingtodiehewasgoingtodie._

As Virgil’s panic grew larger, his frantic protests grew more and more desperate, trying to get the side to release him before he would die. His feet moved at top speed, trying to hit anything near them, and his hands scratched Pride’s, hoping that the other would be hurt enough to release him.

Finally, Virgil’s foot made contact with something else, and for one moment, he was aware of Pride’s distant swearing before he fell to the ground, Pride’s hands releasing him from their iron grip.

With a gasp, the anxious trait fell into a dishevelled heap onto the ground, gasping and coughing as he tried to refill his lungs with oxygen. It felt good to breathe freely again, but Virgil wasn’t able to enjoy this for a long time, as the air was quickly forced from his lungs by one- two- three kicks to his chest, each one forceful enough to shove him back into the wall.

“Never do that again,” Pride demanded sharply as he lifted Virgil’s head by grabbing a fistful of his hair. “Do you understand me?”

Virgil nodded, a gesture that did not seem to be good enough for the older side, as he shoved Anxiety’s head into the wall, before forcing the other to look up at him.

“Do you,” he repeated, pausing for emphasis, “understand me?”

“Y-yes,” Virgil nodded, trembling as he did so. His chest hurt so much, every heartbeat seemed to pound against his aching ribs, only making it worse. So much worse. His head was spinning and he couldn’t think anymore. He was so dizzy and nauseous, and he felt like he was going to throw up any second. He felt like passing out, he felt like crying, like throwing himself at the white door in his room and repeat this until it broke down, just so he could run away from the others. So he could get away.

“What’s with ‘yes’, Virgil?”

“I- I understand.”

“Good boy,” Pride cooed as he forced Virgil to his feet, still holding his hair in his hand. “You might not be a _quick_ learner, but I’m sure we’re making some progress, right?”

The anxious side cast his eyes to the floor, not responding. The next thing he knew, the cool metal of a dagger pressed against his throat. Virgil froze as he felt this, his panic increasing while everything seemed to _stop_ around him. He bit his lip, doing his best not to make a sound.

“Now, I need you to remember one thing,” Pride said. He increased the pressure on the dagger and Virgil could nearly feel the skin breaking underneath the pressure of the sharp edge. Drips of blood trickled down, slightly tickling the sensitive skin on his throat. _Focus_ , he told himself sharply. He couldn’t bear to get distracted by panic now. It would only get him into trouble. “ _Never touch me again_. Do you understand that, Misery Business?”

Virgil took a few breaths before he felt like he would be able to respond without breaking down _completely_ , but apparently this recovery took too long for the older side. The pressure of the dagger disappeared from Virgil’s throat, but before the trait had the chance to cherish this, Pride grabbed Virgil’s wrist in a vice-like grip as he held it up. The next second, the dagger had been stabbed into the palm of his hand, effectively pinning it to the wall.

The younger trait let out a soft whimper – the only sound he could get out of his mouth at that moment. He could feel the blood dripping out of the wound. Down onto the floor. Down his wrist, onto the sleeve of his black hoodie. It was a vague sensation, nothing compared to the stinging in his hand.

“I asked you something,” Pride growled softly, bringing his face so close to Virgil that the latter could practically feel his breath on his skin. A new dagger had been conjured up and pressed against his throat, while his left hand seemed to be _on fire_.

“I und- under- stand,” Virgil breathed. He turned his head away from Pride, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to hide the tears that threatened to spill. He did not dare move, afraid of doing the wrong thing and angering the other even more.

“Good.” Pride grabbed Virgil’s other hand, pinning it against the wall with the second dagger. Virgil whimpered as he tried to stifle a sob – but failed, eliciting a hardly suppressed sigh from the annoyed side.

“Don’t be such a wuss, Virgil,” he snapped, grabbing the anxious trait’s jaw with so much force that Virgil thought it might break if the other wasn’t careful enough. “You deserved this, you know you did.”

Without a second glance, Pride pushed Virgil away, causing his head to collide with the wall one more time. Then, he left, leaving the anxious side alone, pinned to the wall.

 

No one came into his room to check on him. The lights turned off on their own accord that night. And still, Virgil was there, unable to move away from the wall. His hands grew numb, but his arms started to ache, his shoulders burned and his legs grew tired from having to stand up all this time.

The hours crawled away, the night seeming ridiculously long. There were no hallucinations that night, but Virgil was too exhausted to even think about their pleasant absence. After all, he was still _pinned_ to a fucking _wall_. He was too afraid to move a muscle, scared that it would dislodge the knives in his hands and cause more damage than they already had inflicted.

After a night that seemed to last for years, Virgil finally saw his room was beginning to grow lighter. He rested his head against his shoulder – it was uncomfortable, but holding his head up had become too heavy for now. He was positively exhausted from the exactly no sleep he had gotten that night.

Virgil had no idea exactly how long it lasted for the daggers to vanish into nothingness, but when he finally dropped to the floor later that day, his legs ached, but his fingers were weirdly numb. The blood that had dripped down his arms had stopped a while ago, his lips were chapped and his mouth dry. But his hands were unsettlingly numb.

When Virgil put his hands on the floor to push himself up, he felt that a few of his fingers felt… odd. Odd meaning that he couldn’t feel them _at all_. Especially his left hand. When he tried to push himself up, he found that there was hardly any feeling in his thumb, index finger and middle finger. He was vaguely aware of a numb tingling in said fingers, but that was all. And when he had sat up and tried to move his fingers, Virgil found that he was hardly capable of doing this task.

“Oh God,” the side muttered to himself, trying not to focus too much on the _fucking hole in his hand_ as he looked at his unmoving fingers. A whole new panic formed itself in his chest as he realised how much he could not move them. At least, his ring finger and pinkie were fine and unharmed. His other fingers weren’t so lucky.

With dread burning in his stomach, Virgil turned to his right hand, hoping to be met with a better result. To his relief, he could move nearly all his fingers – except his thumb. And even though there was hardly any feeling left in his remaining fingers, at least they still _worked._ Somewhat.

Virgil sat up, the pain in his hands wasn’t as unbearable as it had once been, but it was still there. It had subsided to a nagging pain, not quite strong enough to be agonising, not quite weak enough to be forgotten about.

The anxious side knew he had to do something about these wounds – makes sense, considering a dagger had made a literal hole in both of his hands – but he was reluctant to do so. It meant he had to walk up to one of the other sides and ask them to help him. Knowing the others, Deceit would be the best option here; the others would be too busy laughing at his pain, but walking up to Deceit with a request like this was never something Virgil was looking forwards to. He couldn’t stand to be around the other side for so long, especially with his habit of lying, his snake-like face, and his sharp tongue that never failed to make Virgil feel even worse about himself than he already did.

He would have to ask for help, listen to the other guys joking about him, his inability to move half of his fucking fingers – oh God, what if he could never move his fingers again? Just the thought of that made him panic. It wasn’t just the fact that he would not be able to use them, that he would have to find a way to live with this. It was also the fact that the other sides would love to use this opportunity to make him feel even more useless, to make him feel worse about himself and how he failed at every single aspect in life – even with all ten of his fingers still working properly.

But finally, Virgil got up and walked to the door of his room. He hooked three working fingers of his right hand around the doorknob and carefully pushed the handle down. Opening the door was not easy, but at least he managed.

Slowly, the anxious side made his way to the common rooms, hoping to find Deceit there. At the same time, he dreaded meeting with the lying side, but he had to get something done about the two holes in his hands before it got too bad. And Deceit really was the least of four evils.

When he stopped in front of the common rooms, Virgil halted for a few moments before he finally got the courage to push the door open.

To his relief, the anxious trait found that the common rooms were empty. Sure, it wasn’t ideal, as this meant he would have to _look_ for Deceit, but at least he could get himself something to eat. Or… he could try.

He managed to get himself a glass – it took him ages, because, again, no thumbs, but he _did_ manage to grab a glass without dropping it. He even managed to fill the glass with water and drink it. Admittedly, this was extremely uncomfortable, as he held the glass with just his fingers, but… it was better than nothing.            

However, as he finished, Virgil heard an unexpected voice behind him.

“Anxiety,” it spoke up, as Virgil dropped the glass in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

Virgil quickly turned around, seeing Disdain standing in front of the door, blocking his way out. The disdainful side nonchalantly leaned against the doorpost, watching the other lazily. He wasn’t nearly as threatening as he could be, yet Virgil felt panic rising up. How weak.

“Just… drinking,” Virgil mumbled as he looked down at the broken glass on the floor. Shit. The others wouldn’t like that.

“Drinking?” Disdain asked with a scoff. “You call _that_ drinking? Dropping glasses on the floor?”

“You… startled me,” the anxious side softly justified, his eyes glued to the other trait. “I’m sorry.”

“As you should be,” the older side nodded, pushing himself off the doorframe to slowly step closer to Virgil. “Aren’t you going to clean that up?”

Virgil looked down at the shards of glass. He probably should clean it up as soon as possible; it could be dangerous after all. But his hands were already injured, and he couldn’t even grab anything decently. It would take him ages to get it all done; it would be so much quicker if he just got someone to heal his wounds and the nerve damage, and _then_ clean up the mess he had made.

“I am,” he finally said, “but I-”

“But what?” Disdain intervened **,** stopping in front of Virgil, cornering the anxious side between him and the counter. “What could possibly be more important, Virgil?”

The ache in his chest got too strong to talk, and instead of responding, Virgil just held up his hands, to show Disdain his injuries. He really, _really_ didn’t want to, but… he knew he had to answer one way or another. It was rude not to answer a question.

Disdain let out a short laugh as he grabbed Virgil’s wrists tightly. The younger trait gasped and tried to pull his hands free from the other’s grip.

“My, he really got you, didn’t he?” Disdain grinned as he studied the two stab wounds. His stare made Virgil feel so uncomfortable. He was enjoying this way too much, and it made his fellow side feel a little too many different things. Fear, most of all. What if he got any ideas because of… this? “Too bad he isn’t here to see the result.”

“What?” Virgil asked hesitantly. He furrowed his brows as he looked at the other side carefully. “What do you-”

“That is none of your concern,” the disdainful trait responded harshly, his fingers wrapping around Virgil’s wrist just a little tighter.

“Well, I- eh… I needed someone to- to fix this… I guess,” Virgil said, looking down at his feet. He was painfully aware of Disdains fingers wrapped around his wrists, nails digging into his skin, and he just wanted the other to let him go.

“Pick up that glass first,” the disdainful trait decided. “And I’ll think about it.”

He released Virgil’s wrists and stared at the other expectantly. The other side carefully looked up, feeling Disdain’s burning eyes, and sighed. He didn’t really have a choice, did he? Either he did was Disdain wanted or… well, there was no other option.

“Can I… can I summon something?” Virgil wanted to know. “Like… a… a dustpan and brush?”

“I don’t see why you’d need that,” Disdain responded casually. “It’s not like you can hold them, right?”

Well… he had a point, Virgil decided reluctantly. He couldn’t exactly use those tools anyways, but… picking it up with his hands? He wasn’t looking forwards to doing that either.

“Well? I’m waiting, little one.”

Virgil sighed. Might as well get it over with. He slowly got to his knees and carefully tried to pick up the bigger shards of glass without hurting himself too much. With half of his fingers out of order, this was quite the challenge.

He failed to pick up the smallest shards of glass, but when he had cleared out the bigger ones, he slowly got up, looking up at Disdain.

“I… I can’t really pick up the rest,” he said softly, looking down at his hands – his fingers now covered in small, but painful cuts. “but I…”

“Well, alright then,” the disdainful side finally conceded. He grabbed Virgil’s left hand with one of his hands, and placed his free hand on the palm of Virgil’s hand – something which made the anxious side rather uncomfortable, but it had to happen. A weird, tingling sensation rippled through the wound, and when Disdain pulled away, all there was to see now, was a scar. Disdain did the same to Virgil’s right hand. When he had finished, he took a small step back, looking at Virgil expectantly.

“Thank you,” the younger side said softly with a small nod. He looked down at his hands and tried to move his paralysed fingers. It still wouldn’t work. “I- eh… could you, maybe… do something… about my fingers? I- I can’t move them, and…”

“Oh… no,” Disdain scoffed, looking at Virgil with an unreadable expression, “I can’t. That… it’s too complicated. Nerves are difficult to regenerate.”

“Alright,” Virgil said with a slight nod. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed at this answer. To be fair, he wouldn’t have expected the other to heal it, even if he could, but it sucked. “Well… thank you.”

He turned around, meaning to get himself something to eat, but he was stopped in his tracks by Disdain.

“Why don’t you go back to your room, Anxiety?”

“What? But I-”

“ _Virgil_.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil mumbled, looking away. “I’ll go.”

 

_All in all you were all just bricks in the wall_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mention of drugs in a song lyric, mention of death/suicide, swearing
> 
> Notes: Wow, I think is the least amount of warnings this fic has had so far. Can you believe that the chapters until now are only the introduction? Pff
> 
> Song: Another Brick In The Wall, Part 3 - Pink Floyd

_I don't need no arms around me_

He couldn’t stay here. Something would kill him if he stayed here for much longer. It could be the others, it could be himself. He didn’t know. But _something_ would kill him. He couldn’t stay here.

His only hope was escaping to the other side of the mind, where the others hardly ventured. But how would he get there? If his theory was true, if the white door in his room led to their corner of the mind… how would he open the door? He needed a key. A key he didn’t have. One of the other sides must have it. But _who_ had it? And where would it be? And _how would he be able to get to it_? There were so many questions he didn’t know the answers to and it freaked him out.

Most of that day, Virgil stayed in his room, trying to work out a plan. It was good he had his secret food stash to sustain him that day. He had decided that his safest option was going into one of the others’ rooms to search for the key. Still, an extremely dangerous action, but what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t exactly demand a full body search and get away with it. The others would kill him.

The first room he would investigate, was Deceit’s. Virgil felt like, if anyone of the other sides would be trusted with a key, it would be Deceit. Either him, or Disdain. Lust was out of the question; he didn’t care enough, and Pride was gone. And knowing the other sides, the key would probably be with Deceit.

Virgil had no idea just how long he had sat there in his room, trying to think of the best moment to execute his plan, trying to dismiss the anxiety that kept bubbling up when he thought of it. If he succeeded at this, he could actually get away from this hell-place. But if he didn’t… if one of the others caught him in Deceit’s room – and going through Deceit’s stuff at that – things would get ugly, and he wasn’t sure he would ever get another chance at trying to leave ever again. He had to be careful, make sure no one found out he had been in the other’s room. If he managed that… maybe he could succeed.

_And I don’t need no drugs to calm me._

Virgil didn’t sleep well that night. He had worked out his entire plan – including what to say if one of the others started to suspect something – and his mind kept racing. Kept thinking of the possible outcomes to his little adventure. And when he did manage to fall asleep, it haunted him in his dreams.

That next day, he waited until he was sure that the other three sides were in the common rooms, giving him the opportunity to sneak into Deceit’s room.

At first, he checked one of the shelves in the room. He checked everything for a hidden compartment that would contain a key. It went terribly, as grabbing onto things was immensely difficult without fucking thumbs, but after a while, he kind of got the hang of it. It was still difficult, but at least he didn’t drop every book he tried to pick up.

_I have seen the writing on the wall._

When he found nothing hidden in the shelf, Virgil moved on to the desk. It had a bunch of drawers, and surely, there would be at least something in there? It was worth a shot.

Virgil had just opened the second drawer, clumsily rummaging through it, when he was interrupted by someone.

“Deceit, we ne-” Virgil startled when the other side sank into the room, quickly stepping away from the desk. It wasn’t a side Virgil recognized, but he wasn’t sure if tat was a good thing or not.

“I'm sorry, I'm not doing anything!” he called immediately, raising his hands as he looked at the newcomer. He wore a blue polo with a cardigan tied around his shoulders, and glasses. Definitely not someone Virgil had seen before.

“What? What do you mean?” The other seemed to be genuinely concerned by Virgil’s behaviour, and he looked at the anxious side with concern – that was odd. His voice was warm and… weird. Virgil wasn’t used to this. “You're not Deceit.”

“I'm sorry,” Virgil mumbled, looking down as he moved in the direction of the door. The other side probably wanted him out of there, he reasoned. He wasn’t supposed to be in here, after all, and he had no idea what the other would do. He didn’t seem upset, but that could be a façade. So he would lower his guard. It could be a trick.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked. His voice sounded genuinely concerned, catching Virgil off guard. The anxious side stopped for a moment, risking another glance at the other side. He had carefully taken a few steps closer, and when Virgil noticed, he hastily stepped back, until his back hit the wall. This stranger might be actually confused, and he didn’t _look_ like he had ill intent, but Virgil could never be sure, and he’d rather be safe than sorry. He just wanted to get out of this room as quickly as possible. Before the other realised that he was not supposed to be here, and before Deceit came back. 

“Please don't- don't tell him I… was here?” Virgil stuttered. He didn’t know if it would work, it was a pathetic attempt at trying to stop Deceit from finding out he was in here. And on top of that, it was quite the risk. He had no idea how the side in front of him would react. If he would agree, or lash out at Virgil for attempting to hide something from Deceit. “I- I didn't mean to- to- I didn't-”

Virgil abruptly stopped talking and flinched as the door was opened, showing Deceit. His eyes landed on the stranger first, and he was about to greet him, when he noticed the presence of another side. His eyes darted to the open desk drawer and Virgil nearly felt sick as he saw this. Fuck.

“Virgil?” he asked calmly. Too calmly. Virgil looked up anxiously, scared to meet Deceit’s stare. “What gave you the right to come in here?”

“I- I'm sorry,” Virgil muttered, dropping his gaze as soon as he had raised it, “please...”

“It's my fault, actually,” the stranger rushed, before Virgil could say anything else. “I tried to sink into your room, but I- I must have done something wrong, because I ended up in- in the commons, and I couldn't find your room. He brought me here.”

Even without looking up, Virgil was aware of the burning glare Deceit shot him. His heart seemed to stop for a few moments as Deceit fell silent, thinking about what to say next. What would he say? Would he buy this stranger’s lie? Would he see through it? And why would this guy lie? Why would he care enough about Virgil to lie? Why was he trying to keep him out of trouble? This had all been his fault, why was this unknown side trying to… _help_ him?

“Is this true, Virgil?” Deceit asked suddenly. Virgil look a deep breath and risked a glance at the deceitful side.

“Y-yes,” the younger side nodded, biting his tongue nervously as he briefly paused. “It- it's true.”

Deceit hesitated and Virgil winced, bracing himself for Deceit’s response. He didn’t buy it, did he? He was upset with Virgil. For being in his room, for lying to him, for going through his stuff. God, he knew he shouldn’t have done this. It was a stupid idea, he had messed this up for real this time. And now there was no way to get out of it. This was his only chance and he ruined it, the others wouldn’t allow a chance like this to occur ever again. He had fucked up big time.

“Very well,” Deceit said with a pensive nod that sent a wave of relief through Virgil’s body. He glanced at the stranger, but soon turned back to Virgil. “Now, give us some privacy, will you? I'd like to discuss… _this_ with you later.”

Virgil bit the inside of his cheek, knowing _exactly_ what this meant. The relief he just felt immediately flooded away. He nodded slightly, looking down at his feet. Of course Deceit didn’t believe these lies. He should have known he couldn’t get away with this, and he was stupid for thinking he could.

“Of course,” he said softly. He didn’t look Deceit as he made his way to his own room.

_Don't think I need anything at all._

A soft knock on the door made Virgil look up. He stared at the door with furrowed eyebrows. No one ever knocked. They just walked in whenever they saw fit. But then… who just knocked?

“Virgil?” Virgil froze at the voice of the side from before, but didn’t respond. Maybe the other would just go away if he didn’t answer. “Virgil, it’s Patton- eh… from before? Can I come in?”

No. Virgil didn’t want the other to come in. He just wanted to be left alone, but that seemed to be too much of a luxury around here. He could never be alone, it seemed. He didn’t want ‘Patton’ to come in, but he didn’t know what this side would do if Virgil dared to say no to him. So with a sigh, he told the other to come in, subconsciously bracing himself for what he would be faced with once he was alone with this stranger.

“So… nice room you’ve got here, kiddo,” Patton commented. Virgil flinched as he heard the door closing. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Fine,” Virgil mumbled, resting his forehead on his knees. He didn’t want this side he hardly knew to pry in his personal life. He didn’t even _know_ this Patton-guy, he could have ill intent – and he probably did. It was always the same. Everyone wanted to hurt him.

“Are you sure?” The anxious side nodded, and he noticed Patton had come closer, but he still kept his distance. This confused Virgil. He was being so careful, so afraid to make a wrong move. Why was he doing this? What was he planning, and why did it have to take so long for him to get to the fucking point? “Look, I- I saw something between you and Deceit back there, and I thought I- I can get you out of here. If you want to.”

“What?” Virgil looked up. Had he heard this correctly? Could this guy really get him out of this hell? Virgil wanted to trust him, he really did. But… could he?

“Do you want me to help you out of here?” Virgil stared at the side, going over his options. If he could get out of here… he would be free from the other sides. He wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. But on the other hand, if it was a trap… well… how much worse could his life get? It was already pretty bad, and to be fair, Virgil didn’t see how it could get any worse. He didn’t really have anything to lose, he realised. So, he nodded. Slowly, keeping his eyes on the other.

_No! Don't think I'll need anything at all._

Patton smiled, and Virgil found that it was a warm smile, kind. Unlike most of the smiles Virgil was used to. But it _still_ wasn’t enough to reassure him that it was okay.

Patton looked at the locked white door, mumbling to himself.

“Let’s see, maybe… this will work,” he said softly as he conjured up a key. The anxious side followed his movements intently, just as curious. Patton inserted the key into the lock and twisted.

And something clicked.

Patton opened the door, looking at what lay behind it, and smiled. Then, he turned back to the black door, quickly locked it and turned to Virgil. The latter stared at the now locked door, and while he knew that he had a way to get out of there, he panicked. He had no idea what was behind that door. What if it was a trick, what if there was nothing behind it, or just a small room? What if the other was going to lock him in that tiny space, or… hurt him, or…

“Are you coming?” Virgil snapped out of his doubting and looked at the Patton-guy. If he could, he would turn back, but he didn’t want to upset the side in front of him. So he nodded and got up. He didn’t look at the side as he passed him, walking towards the white door. Virgil was very aware of his shallow breathing and rapid heartbeat, and everything seemed to be going in slow-motion as he walked forwards.

Virgil risked a glance at was behind the door and he froze as he saw what was there.

It was a hallway that looked exactly like the one in the other side of his room, but the colours were so much warmer. It was light, and the atmosphere was so much more pleasant than the cold of the other hallway.

He carefully stepped out into this hallway. He wasn’t sure it was safe. A part of him couldn’t believe it was real. It had to be a trap, this couldn’t be real. It just _couldn’t_ be.

But he stepped into the hallway and Patton followed and nothing happened, and the hallway was an actual hallway instead of a trap and there were doors and he heard voices and it was _real_. It was almost as if it was some kind of dream. He could barely believe that this was happening. Part of him still feared that this was a trick, but he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t. It couldn’t be… fake… right?

_All in all it was all just bricks in the wall._

“Just sit down, kiddo,” Patton said softly, guiding Virgil to the couch in their living room. Virgil nodded, too afraid to disobey. “Can I get you anything?”

“N- no.” Virgil shook his head. “Thank you, though.” He hastily added.

The other side nodded, but before he could speak up, someone else entered the room.

“Pat, I need to- who’s this?” Virgil tensed up at the voice. It was strangely familiar somehow, but he couldn’t quite explain why.

“Eh, Roman, this is Virgil,” Patton said quickly. “I will explain later, but I need to talk to Logan, please stay with him while I’m gone?”

“Of course,” the other side – Roman apparently – responded. Virgil felt someone sitting down next to him and his heartrate sped up. He knew it was ridiculous, to get scared just by someone sitting down next to him, but he couldn’t exactly tell his heart to slow down. “So… Virgil, is it?”

“An- Anxiety,” Virgil corrected. “Please.”

“Very well,” the other guy nodded. “Anxiety. You probably heard, but I’m Roman. Creativity.”

Virgil nodded slightly and looked up at the other side. But when he locked eyes with him, his breathing hitched and his heart stopped, yet at the same time, it sped up. This Roman-guy looked _exactly_ like Pride. His shirt was white where it was supposed to be black, the red of his sash was lighter, his eyes warmer, but he still looked like Pride. So much.

“Vir- Anxiety, are you okay?” Roman’s soft voice drew Virgil’s attention and the side was pulled out of his trance. He looked at Roman and just nodded, before averting his eyes again. His breathing became more troubled and he felt so _bad_ , but he couldn’t let the other know. He had to fix this by himself, without the other side making things worse.

“You see, I don’t think you are,” the creative side carefully stated. “Is it okay if I touched you?”

Virgil tensed up, too afraid to say yes, too afraid to say no.

“I won’t then,” Roman said. “I’m sorry.”

The anxious side frowned at these words. Did the other just… apologise? _Why_? No one ever apologised to him. Not when they were being serious. Even if they did, it was a joke. Was all of this some elaborate joke? Had the others set this up, thought it out bit by bit? Why was Roman so kind to him? Why did he look like Pride? Did they think he wouldn’t notice the similarities? He didn’t know if he liked all of these new developments.

He just nodded, not saying anything. He didn’t want to upset the other, not when they were with just the two of them. As long as he could stall until the others came back, he would be okay. Patton didn’t seem to want to hurt him. He hoped, at least. He hoped he would be fine here.

_All in all you were all just bricks in the wall._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of hallucinations, panic attacks

The two of them sat there for a while, neither of them speaking. Both of them were too anxious to say the wrong thing and upset the other. The atmosphere was slightly tense, but it was better than anything Virgil was used to. It was tense, but… it was different. More bearable than what he went through with the others. It was tense, yes, but somehow it was more relaxed than he was used to. At least he wasn’t on edge all the time. Not as much as he used to be, at least.

Nevertheless, he was relieved when Patton entered, with someone else. The side Patton mentioned earlier, Virgil thought. But he had already forgotten his name. Virgil heard footsteps, he heard movement and he tensed up involuntarily.

“Virgil,” said a new voice, startling the anxious trait. “Can you-”

“I- he prefers Anxiety, I believe,” Roman interrupted. He noticed Virgil’s slight flinch at the use of his name, and when the new side didn’t respond, he decided to correct the other himself.

“Right. Apologies,” the voice mumbled. “Anxiety, can you look at me?”

Virgil hesitated for a few moments. He didn’t know this side. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. But on the other hand, he also didn’t know what the other would do if he didn’t do what he asked. So maybe he would be safer just doing what the other wanted him to do until he had figured him out. With a deep breath, Virgil managed to make himself look up to the new side. He wore glasses that looked like Patton’s, a black polo and a necktie. He was crouched before Virgil, hands resting on the couch as he looked up at the younger side. At least his outfit didn’t resemble any of the sides Virgil knew.

“Thank you.” Virgil furrowed his brow at the words the side before him uttered. People thanking him was… surreal. It was weird. He wasn’t used to it. “I should introduce myself, don’t suppose you know who I am. I’m Logan, Thomas’ logic. Patton told me- eh, never mind. That is of no importance. How are you feeling, Anxiety?”

“Don’t know,” the anxious side said softly. “Normal… I think.”

“Normal?” he asked. Virgil nodded, avoiding Logan’s eyes. “What does that mean?”

Virgil shrugged, biting the inside of his lip as he thought. “I don’t- I don’t know, just… normal? I don’t-”

“That’s okay, Anxiety,” Logan said softly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to know. Would it be okay if I touched you?”

“I don’t know, sorry… I- I don’t know.” He had no idea. He wanted to answer, but he couldn’t think and he just... he had no idea. There was so much going on and he didn’t know, he just didn’t _know_.

“It’s alright, take your time,” Logic told Virgil patiently. “You’re alright here, okay? Take your time, Anxiety. Deep breaths, can you do that?”

The younger side nodded shakily and tried to focus on his breathing, tried to calm down. He was alright here, he was safe. It was okay. It was okay. Everything was okay. He wasn’t with the other sides anymore. he was somewhere else. It was okay. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. They were okay.

Logan continued to mutter soft encouragements to Virgil, until he was fully calm again. Roman and Patton had left the room, to discuss something.

“You’re alright, Anxiety,” Logan said softly as Virgil finally managed to steady his breathing. “There’s no rush, okay? It’s alright. Think you can talk?”

Virgil shook his head carefully, afraid his answer would upset the other. “S- so- sorry,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to. Do you need anything? Some water maybe?” Virgil shook his head. His throat was dry, but he was afraid to burden the others. He was scared they would hate him, or play a trick on him. He could get some water later as well. “No? Okay... if you are sure…”

Logan got up and sat down next to Virgil. Not so close that they were touching, but close enough to be some sort of comfort.

They remained silent until Patton and Roman returned, having finished their talk. They tried their best to make Virgil comfortable, to help him out, and he appreciated the attempts, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious of their motives. And besides, he was exhausted. All he wanted to do, was to just close his eyes and sleep. Just for once, he wanted a good night’s sleep that wasn’t haunted by fear and hallucinations. Even if it was just this once time.

 

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but Virgil knew that dreams of monsters haunted him in his sleep. Monsters that looked a lot like the sides who had terrorised him for so long. And every time he thought a dream had ended, he would find himself in yet another scenario. And it never seemed to stop.

 

With a start, Virgil woke up. The room around him was dark, yet not so dark that he couldn’t make out his surroundings. Vaguely, he could see the furniture, but it wasn’t the look of his trusted room. And he wasn’t laying on his bed. Virgil scooted back, clinging onto the soft blanket someone had given him as his breathing became more troubled. It hurt to breathe and he was starting to panic, because it was dark and he hated it and he didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t know what happened and he was scared of what the others would do and-

The lights were turned on, and Virgil closed his eyes to protect them from the sudden light. He heard some movement and someone walking around, and he expected to be met with something highly unpleasant as he opened his eyes, but instead, he only saw Patton, sitting a few feet away from him. The events of yesterday returning, Patton, Deceit’s room, him leaving the other side of the mind behind him.

“Kiddo, are you okay?” Virgil looked up at Patton, who eyed him worriedly. He tried to take a few deep breaths and faked a watery smile to reassure the other – he didn’t want him to think of him as some pathetic weakling, after all. But involuntarily, his eyes filled up with tears and his breathing remained unsteady and he couldn’t tell Patton he was okay, he just couldn’t.

“Aw, kiddo,” Patton muttered empathetically. “Can I hug you?”

Virgil hesitated. He wasn’t comfortable with being touched, he wasn’t used to hugging, he didn’t know. Usually, he would shake his head and keep to himself. But something in Patton’s eyes, something in his body language made this impossible. Virgil realised that while he hated it, he absolutely craved touch at the same time. He needed a hug, even if he had never thought of it in the past years. So, he gave a shaky nod, which was Patton’s cue to get up and move to Virgil’s side, to hug him.

As soon as Virgil felt Patton’s comforting embrace, he gave in. He flinched at first, uncomfortable with the intimacy, but that was forgotten as soon as the first sob left his mouth. He’d never realised how the past years of hurt, abuse and damaging had affected him, but now he let down his walls, let all the pent-up pain flow out and he didn’t have control over it anymore. His breathing became rapid and shallow, but instead of ridiculing him for it, Patton only comforted him, he rubbed comforting circles on Virgil’s back, whispered words that Virgil could not hear over the ringing in his ears and the loud beating of his heart. Instead of making fun or belittling him, Patton was there for Virgil, and he wanted to help him out. And Virgil had never realised how much he needed this, or how good it felt. He had never realised how toxic the other sides were until he got away from them.

At first, Virgil just leaned his head on Patton’s shoulder, not wanting to hold on to the other too tightly – he didn’t know what the other would do if he did so, after all. He didn’t even know when he wrapped his arms around Patton, holding on to the blue fabric of his shirt, as a form of comfort for himself. Loud sobs wrestled their way up, leaving his mouth with a dull ache. It actually hurt his throat, as if sandpaper rubbed itself against it with every breath, but once he started crying, Virgil just… he couldn’t stop it. This was what he had needed all those years. And finally, there was someone there for him. It felt surreal, wrong almost, but… _good_.

 

“I- I’m sorry,” Virgil mumbled as he pulled away from Patton’s hug. His throat hurt from crying more than he ever had before, and his chest and stomach ached too. He wiped away the final tears, and noticed the black smudges on his hand, realising that he stained Patton’s shirt as well. A new kind of panic bubbled up, and he felt even more lightheaded than he already did. He ruined Patton’s clothes – he bit his lip, trying to keep back the panicked whimper that wanted to escape his lips so desperately.

“Sorry?” Patton asked with a frown. He reached out to take Virgil’s hand, but changed his mind as he moved, instead placing his hand on Virgil’s knee. The anxious side flinched, but he didn’t pull away. “About what, kiddo?”

“I cried on… on you,” he explained slowly, new tears already burning in his eyes – hadn’t he cried enough already? “And I… s- stained your sh- shirt, so…”

“That’s fine, V- Anxiety!” the moral trait said gently, rubbing Virgil’s knee. “It’s not your fault.”

Virgil frowned at Patton, rubbing the tears away from his eyes. He only smudged the black eyeshadow underneath his eyes, but he didn’t mind that. Not right now, with other worries on his mind.

“But… but I…”

“It’s okay to cry, Anxiety. I won’t get upset about you crying,” Patton continued, his voice warm and caring. “Your emotions are valid. It’s fine. Everybody cries sometimes.”

Virgil scoffed. He doubted Deceit, Disdain or Lust ever cried. They wouldn’t. But he appreciated Patton’s words nonetheless.

“I’m going to get you something to drink, okay?” The moral trait got up as he spoke, looking down at Virgil with a smile. “I’ll be right back, kiddo.”

Virgil nodded, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to give himself some sort of comfort as he sat here on his own. It was unsettling to be in this unfamiliar room all by himself, but as long as the other sides wouldn’t get to him… he might be fine.

Luckily, Virgil wasn’t alone for long. Soon enough, Patton came back with a glass filled with water. Virgil gave him a small smile and clumsily took a hold of the glass, using his limited number of fully functional fingers. Virgil hoped Patton wouldn’t notice but… who wouldn’t notice? It was fairly obvious that at least something was up, as his way of holding the glass wasn’t exactly… normal.

“I don’t mean to be rude, kiddo,” Patton asked after Virgil had carefully taken a few sips of water. “But… is there a reason you’re holding the glass like that? There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, it’s just… it doesn’t look comfortable, you know?”

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered, slinking back a little bit instinctively. “I- I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Morality repeated, tilting his head a little bit. “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

“Don’t think so, Disdain said he couldn’t so…”

“Well, we can always try, right?”

“Don’t wanna bother you, it’s fine.”

“Hey, you’re not a bother. You can trust me, do you want to tell me what happened? I can always try to help you.”

“I, eh…” He looked down at his hands. In the weak lighting, he could barely see the scar on the back of his hand, where Pride’s knife had pierced the skin. For a moment, he wanted to tell Patton the truth, but that thought was quickly dismissed. He didn’t completely trust this yet. If Pride found out… Virgil didn’t want to risk it. “I cut my- myself. I was… trying to make… something, and I just- I slipped, I guess. So I- I can’t use my fingers, that’s- that’s about it.”

“Well… if you want, I could ask Roman to heal it for you?” Virgil involuntarily tensed up at the thought of the prince who looked so much like Pride. Patton and Logan seemed to trust him, but Virgil… he just wasn’t sure. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but Creativity really did resemble Pride. “Don’t worry kiddo, I’m sure he’d be more than willing to at least try to help you out. And I’ll be here with you, alright? You won’t be alone with him, if you don’t want to be.”

Virgil looked at Patton for a moment. He seemed sincere. It didn’t appear to be some kind of malicious plan to hurt him, or to get him back to the others. Patton seemed to be honest here.

And maybe he should give Roman a chance. If he really wasn’t Pride… it wasn’t his fault that he looked like the other side, right? It wasn’t like he _chose_ to look like him.

“Okay,” he agreed softly. “But I- I don’t want to… be alone with him… if that’s okay?”

His voice was soft and so much pain was hidden in those words. Patton nodded, sending the other a reassuring smile. It hurt him to see how small and insecure Virgil was, and he could not even begin to imagine what the other had gone through.

“You won’t be,” he promised. “I’ll be here, okay? I could just get him…”

“No!” The word had left Virgil’s mouth before he realised and he flinched at the realisation, looking down as he continued. “I mean… don’t… please. Can we just… can you stay? Please?”

“But I can’t ask Roman for help if I stay here, kiddo,” Patton said gently, looking at the younger side in front of him. He looked so terrified and vulnerable, and Patton just wanted to protect him from every bad thing that could possibly come to haunt him.

“I know,” Virgil mumbled. “I just… don’t want to be alone. And it’s late anyways, I don’t want to disturb him. So… tomorrow?”

“Are you sure?” Virgil nodded in response, taking a final sip of his water. “Very well, if you want to wait.” Patton gently took the now empty glass of water and placed it on the coffee table. “Do you need anything else?”

“Can you… hug me?” Anxiety asked, his voice little more than a whisper. He was nearly embarrassed at the question. He wasn’t sure how Patton would respond and he just hoped the other wouldn’t get upset, or laugh at him. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I’m sorry, I just-”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” Patton said softly, sitting down on the couch. “You don’t have to apologise, Anxiety, it’s fine. Of course I’ll hug you.”

Virgil smiled and awkwardly shifted as Patton opened his arms, clearly a gesture inviting him for a hug. He carefully wrapped his arms around the moral side and sighed contently, feeling the safest he had ever felt.

In that position, the two of them fell asleep.

 

Logan was the first one to find the two that morning, sleeping soundly. He smiled at the two, noticing how much calmer Anxiety seemed in Patton’s embrace. Patton seemed to have that effect on people. He decided to leave the two of them alone and continued to the kitchen to make himself some much needed coffee.

Virgil, being a light sleeper, woke up at the sound of the coffee machine and blinked as he looked around, trying to determine where he was. Patton’s hug was a welcome comfort, and he sighed contently as he cuddled just a bit closer to the other side, trying not to wake him. If this was what life was going to be like, he’d never want anything else. Morality let out a soft sound that sounded like a satisfied whine.

Neither of them moved for a while as Logan helped himself to breakfast. Virgil noticed how laid back the environment was around here. It wasn’t as tense as it was on the other side of his room. It was comfortable. Even lying here, unable to move without waking Patton up, he wasn’t scared of being hurt or scolded by one of the other sides. He still flinched at hearing loud noises coming from the kitchen, but that was more instinct than fear. Of course, he wasn’t okay yet, but he hoped that in time… he could be. He _would_ be.

It wasn’t long before Patton woke up, and he looked down at the anxious side, who was still cuddled up to him, looking around.

“Morning, Anx,” he whispered softly to the other side, hoping not to startle the other.

Despite his efforts, Virgil still winced, scared by the unexpected sound. “Sorry,” he breathed softly, “I- I…”

“It’s okay, Anxiety,” Patton told the smaller trait. “It’s okay. _I’m_ sorry. I should have been more careful.” Virgil nodded, but didn’t answer as he slowly pulled away from their hug. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than usually,” he mumbled in response. “You?”

“Pretty good,” the paternal side said with a nod. “You want some breakfast? I can make some pancakes if you want to?”

“I- eh… don’t know?” Virgil asked, carefully looking at the other. He’d never really had pancakes, so he couldn’t exactly form an educated response. But the thought of eating something other than cereal for breakfast did sound quite tempting. “If it’s not too much trouble…”

“Of course it’s not! Not at all!” Patton said quickly. Virgil bit his lip and finally nodded. It was way too tempting to refuse, after all. Morality seemed to be content with this answer and quickly got up to go to the kitchen. “I will just go ahead and make some pancakes, you can do anything you want, okay?”

Again, Virgil nodded. Part of him wanted Patton to stay with him, but he knew it was selfish to ask that of the other side. He couldn’t be around forever. He just had to suck it up and wait it out. Maybe he could go to the kitchen if it got too difficult, right?

Patton was working on the pancakes – spreading an absolutely amazing scent through the common rooms – when Roman entered the room. Virgil involuntarily tensed up a bit, and he hated that he did so, as the prince had never once hurt him. It didn’t make sense. Why was he so tense? Shouldn’t he give the creative side a chance? Why was he like this?

“Something smells good there,” he smiled broadly, making his way towards the kitchen.

“I’m making pancakes for me and Anxiety,” Virgil heard Patton’s response. “You want some as well?”

“You know I can never say no to your pancakes, Pat,” the royal said. His words were followed by Patton’s soft laugh and a hushed exchange Virgil could not quite understand. Were they talking about him? Were they making fun of him, laughing at him? What were they saying back there?

He didn’t hear anyone laughing, he didn’t hear anything. Not until Roman carefully approached him, very clearly having something to say.

“So… Patton told me you needed some healing?” the prince asked as he sat down on the floor in front of Virgil, crossing his legs. He looked almost cute like this. Almost.

So then… was that what they were talking about in the kitchen? But why didn’t they want him to hear?

“Yes, if- if it’s not too… too much trouble…”

“Of course not,” Roman reassured him with a smile. He made sure to keep his voice low, to not startle the other side too much. “I would be glad to help you! What do you need healed?”

“I- eh, I…” Virgil took a deep breath and decided to instead show Roman his hands. “I… cut myself, and… well, I can’t re- really move my finger much… so…”

Roman looked at the scar Virgil showed, and for a second, it nearly felt… familiar. He wasn’t quite sure why. He felt- he couldn’t quite describe what it was. But he felt _something_. Like there was something about those scars that… connected to him for some reason.

Realising that the silence had gone on for just a bit too much, the prince shook his head, banning his thoughts to the back of his mind.

“Right… you need me to fix that for you?”

“If… yeah, if it’s okay,” the anxious side said softly. He was terrified of making a wrong move, of saying the wrong thing. Even if he was safe here, it didn’t feel like he was. It felt as if Deceit or one of the others could come in at any moment. And they’d see him and they’d take him back. He was scared of going back to the others. He was scared that all of this was a trap, or just some game. Or a dream, even. He was scared to get comfortable because he feared it might be taken away from him again. It was irrational, and stupid, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking it, from fearing it. No matter how much he wanted it to just _stop_.

“Of course it is okay.” Virgil nodded slightly at Roman’s soft words. It was okay. Everything was all okay. All of this was okay, and Roman was trustworthy, and he was going to be alright.   

“Can I take your hand, Anxiety?” Roman asked, making sure not to cross any boundaries. Virgil nodded and Roman took a breath, gently grabbing the side’s hand. He noticed Virgil was a bit tense, but he didn’t comment on that as he placed his other hand on top of Anxiety’s as he focussed on healing the damage. It wasn’t exactly an easy task, but nothing he couldn’t manage. It took quite some creative energy, but soon enough, he had finished. “Okay, can you try to move your fingers? I want to see if everything worked.”

Virgil nodded, noticing the odd feeling of… well… having _feeling_ in his fingers again. It wasn’t just the numbness he had grown used to. And as he tried to move his fingers, Anxiety found that it worked. He smiled vaguely, as he looked at his fingers, moving.

“Is everything working alright?”

“Y- yeah,” Virgil nodded, avoiding Roman’s eyes as he responded.

“Splendid! Can you give me your other hand, then?” Anxiety complied and held out his other hand. The creative side went through the same effort, healing this hand as well.

“Thank you,” Virgil said softly as he carefully pulled his hand away from Roman. It was odd, having a feeling in his fingers again, having been used to the numb sensation, it was nearly unsettling. But he was glad to have his fingers back at least.

“No problem Anxiety,” Roman smiled charismatically, and he got up. “If you need anything else… you know where to find me.”

Anxiety nodded, but didn’t look up at the creative prince. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing here, and a simple nod was always a safe bet. Roman got up and made to walk away. Just before he left, though, he remembered something, turned around and told Virgil: “Oh, Patton wanted me to tell you that the pancakes are nearly ready. So… if you’re hungry…” He took a few seconds to think, before closing with a nod and turning around, continuing his way to the kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Panic attack, food mentions/eating. I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!
> 
> Note: Tbh I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I needed to get some developments going so..... yeah. I also didn't have the time to proofread this, so I apologise for any mistakes haha

After they had breakfast, Roman quickly left for his room. He told the others that it was because he had to make sure the creating process for Thomas' new video was going well. That was a lie. The reason he left, was because he needed space to _think_. He needed room, and some alone time.

There was something about Virgil- _Anxiety_. Every time Roman looked at him, he felt... guilt. Seeing Virgil so afraid of him hurt, but at the same time... a tiny part of him told him to enjoy it. Which only made him feel worse, because why would he thrive on someone else's fear? Who did such a thing? Surely, he wasn’t one of the people who did… right?

But why, _why_ did he feel this way? He hated it, and he wanted to get rid of it, but he had no idea _how_. He didn’t know where it came from, or how to defeat it. But he had to, somehow. No matter the costs. Anxiety was a good side, he didn’t deserve this.

Patton had told him about what he suspected was going on with Anxiety and the other, darker sides, and he desperately hoped the paternal side was wrong on this, even though he doubted this. Especially after having seen the scars on his hands. Roman doubted that he could have caused those cuts by himself, but… who would do that? And _why_?

With a sigh the prince looked up, knowing he’d have to do some investigating to find the answers he was looking for. There was… maybe… one option, but Roman didn’t know nearly enough about it to draw any conclusions yet. So, he had to ask around for a bit.

 

When they had finished their breakfast, Virgil instinctively disappeared to his room. He would rather not go there, afraid of the other sides finding out he was in there, but he’d rather be alone right now. And he didn’t want to bother the others with his presence too much.

He got to his room, slowly opening the door. Before he stepped inside, Virgil studied the room, making sure that it was safe to enter. However, when he looked around, he saw that the black door that would lead to the darker corridor had disappeared. There was only a wall now; it was as if the door had never even been there.

Slowly, Anxiety stepped inside the room. The door was gone. There was no way the others could reach him now. Not through his room, at least. Even though he was still wary of this, the side managed a careful smile as he grabbed his headphones, before falling down on his bed. He pushed his back against the wall, as he always did to make sure he could see anything coming, and he played some music to draw the attention away from his thoughts.

Most of his day was spent in his room. Listening to music, scrolling through Tumblr, and he even took a short nap. He wasn’t sure what time it was when someone knocked on the door. Anxiety winced at the sudden noise, but as he heard Patton’s voice, he eased up again.

“Anxiety, kiddo,” the moral side called gently, “we’re having dinner soon, do you want to come down?”

Virgil hesitated for a few moments, not quite sure what to answer. Did he want to join them? They all seemed like good sides, and he knew he’d be more comfortable with them than with the dark sides, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He never really dined with the other sides before, and… he didn’t know. These sides were nothing like the others, but even then… there was doubt.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, though!” Patton continued, noticing the other’s hesitation, even with the door in between them. “It’s all up to you, I just wanted to ask. We’ll eat in a few minutes, so just see if you come down, okay?”

“Yeah…” Virgil mumbled softly. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Morality responded. “I’ll be going back now, you take your time to think about it.”

Virgil nodded as he heard the footsteps of the other side retreating. Maybe he should join them for dinner. He never ate much, but whatever they’d eat would probably be better than eating leftovers or small snacks. And it might give him a chance to warm up to the other sides. Maybe it wasn’t… that bad? He should just try it. He could always leave if it made him uncomfortable – he hoped – and otherwise, he would just refuse tomorrow. But, the three sides weren’t nearly as bad as the dark sides had been, and Virgil felt way more comfortable around them than he had ever felt around them as he had with the others. Maybe he would be able to do this.

So, finally, Virgil got up. He slowly opened the door and walked down to hall, in the direction of the common rooms. The closer he got, the stronger the delicious scent of food got. It smelled absolutely incredible.

He stepped into the common rooms, head held high enough so he could just about see where he was going, yet not so high that he could see the others.

“Anxiety! Happy to see you,” called a voice that was undoubtedly Patton’s. “Sit down! Hope you like pasta?”

“I eh- don’t know,” Virgil said as he sat down on one of the two empty chairs, next to Logan. “I never had it.”

“You didn’t?” Patton gasped. “You have to try it then!”

Virgil shook his head, flinching ever so slightly. He tried to retreat into his dark hoodie just a little bit more, as if it would make him feel safer. He opened his mouth to apologise, but he was intervened by another voice.

“I am sure you’ll love it,” Roman told him gently. “Patton makes the most amazing pasta!”

Virgil nodded and shot the prince a shy smile, before he looked down at his hands again. His heart was racing, and every fibre of his body wanted him to get out, but he couldn’t. He _had_ to do this. He wouldn’t make any progress if he stayed inside his room all the time.

Patton then placed a pan on the table, so everyone could get their dinner. Virgil sat back and waited for the others to get something, so he could take what was left over.

 

The moral trait noticed that Anxiety only got himself a little bit of food, and he looked at the other worriedly, but didn’t comment. He didn’t want Virgil to be uncomfortable, or make him feel bad. He was scared that him commenting would make the side self-conscious or anxious, and all he wanted, was for him to be comfortable here. If he ate… well, that was something at least. Baby steps, right?

While Roman, Logan and Patton chatted some while they ate, Virgil stayed awfully quiet. He didn’t look up at the others and just focussed on his plate, where he mostly pushed his food around, occasionally eating some. If the others tried to include him in the conversation, he would softly bring out an answer, but no more. It was clear that he was still tense about this whole situation, but the fact that he was here with them was huge already.

 

Even if Virgil didn’t eat much, it tasted amazing. Much better than anything he had ever had himself. He just… wasn’t hungry. Perhaps it was the anxiety over being here, or maybe his stomach had adjusted   to surviving with just the bare minimum. He wasn’t sure.

But, with a little bit of effort, Virgil managed to finish the bit of food he had gotten himself. He ignored the conversation for a bit, focussing on himself instead. The other sides talked a bit, and Virgil really did try to listen, but he just… couldn’t.

After a bit, Roman left, and after a bit of conversation, so did Logan. So now, Patton and Virgil were the only two sides in the room.

“I’m glad you came down here, Anx,” Patton smiled at him as he cleaned up their dishes. Virgil looked up at them for a single second, managing a careful smile.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “The- the food was great… thank you.”

“Aw, thank you, kiddo!” Patton put down the dishes and rinsed them. Virgil carefully studied his movements. “I’m glad you like it!”

Anxiety nodded, looking down at his hands as he toyed with his sleeves. He wasn’t quite sure what to do and he was afraid to do something wrong.

He shifted slightly in his seat, looking up at Patton’s back. “I think I… should… go,” he said softly, waiting for Patton to respond to him.

“Of course,” the other nodded, stopping his activities to turn to the younger side. “Go ahead! You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

Virgil slowly nodded as he got up. “Thank you.” He ducked his head and walked out of the room, back to his own, safe room. Now that the black door was gone, he felt much safer there. There still was the familiar feeling of dread, there still was anxiety, but with the door gone… there was at least something he could tell himself. The dark sides couldn’t reach him anymore. The door was gone. There was no way they could reach him. He was safe. They couldn’t come in anymore. He was safe.

 

For the rest of the evening, Virgil sat in his room, listening to music and scrolling through Tumblr. As it got later, he kept glancing at the door. Every time someone passed his room, he flinched. It was stupid, anyways. The sides hadn’t given him a curfew of anything, but something told him that someone could barge into his room at any given moment, yelling at him for leaving the lights on.

Eventually, the anxiety got so bad that he turned off the lights in his room, despite it being only nine pm. He’d conjure a night light to illuminate the room at least a bit, and hopefully the other sides would let him have this one.

Virgil didn’t want to put too much effort and energy into a night light he might not even have for long, so as usual, he made just a small, simple light. Mostly consisting of light bulb. But at least it was enough to give him some light. This didn’t mean he didn’t still flinch every time someone passed his room, but he was used to this. He hoped that he could deal with this better.

 

Through the course of the night, no one entered Virgil’s room. No one shouted at him to turn off the lights… everything seemed to be going… _okay_. He fell asleep quickly, and for the most part, his sleep was actually not that bad. for the most part.

In the middle of the night, Virgil woke up in cold sweat. His breathing was uneven and ragged after the nightmare he had just woken up to. And seeing he was in his own room… it didn’t really even out the panic, even if he saw the lack of black door, his room still terrified him. The nightmare was too fresh and… he feared the dark sides would get to him. He had to get out. He had to calm down.

Virgil reached for his headphones and turned on some music as he got up, trembling. He needed to calm down, and he needed some water. Getting out of his room could help – at least he was allowed to leave his room at night… he hoped.

The first step, was calming down his breathing. He couldn’t sneak out of his room if he was breathing as loudly and as panicked as he was right now. It took him a while, but with the help of a breathing technique Logan had told him about earlier, he managed to calm down. While everything still hurt… his breaths were kind of okay right now.

With shaking hands, Virgil opened the door to his room and he slowly stepped outside. The hallway was dark, and it terrified him, but he was too scared to turn on the lights. What if he woke someone up? What if someone was awake and would be mad at him for leaving his room? No, he had to push through it. He’d have to wait until he made it to the kitchen. That would be safe, he reasoned.

As soon as Virgil reached the kitchen, he turned on the light. He blinked slightly as the light momentarily blinded him. When he had recovered, he slowly walked towards the cupboard, still squinting against the light. After he had paused his music, Anxiety slowly reached for a glass. His hand still shook as he grabbed the first glass he could find and as he carefully pulled back. But then, the glass slipped out of his fingers and fell to the ground, shattering loudly. Virgil quickly stepped back, careful not to stepped into the shards and cursed under his breath, feeling his heart rate speed up again. Shit. This was bad. They would surely find out now. They would know he snuck out of his room and they would see that he had dropped a glass and they would be upset with him and they would… they would…. _Shit_.

He shook his head, leaning back against the counter. He had to clean up the mess he made, but he couldn’t… he could barely see his own hands through the tears blurring his vision; he couldn’t exactly clean up now. But he had to. He had to clean up before anyone else came in, before….

“Anxiety?” Crap. Too late.

Virgil winced as he heard Roman softly calling out to him and he risked a glance up at the other. He was dressed in a white shirt with a little golden crown and red pyjama pants, looking down at the other side worriedly.

He then looked down at the floor, seeing the shards of glass, and he carefully made his way to Virgil, making sure to keep his distance to not make the other feel uncomfortable.

“I- I’m sorry,” Virgil choked out, tensing up as he turned his face away. “I- I just… I…”

“Anxiety,” Roman softly interrupted him. “It’s okay. Everyone drops something every once in a while, that’s fine. I won’t get mad at you.”

The prince waved a hand, quickly cleaning up the shards of glass that littered the floor, and Virgil looked up at him, frowning. He didn’t understand why Roman would clean up the mess that _he_ had made. Wasn’t he supposed to do that? He dropped the glass after all.

“But I- I woke you u- up, and I… I’m ou- out of my room, so…”

“That is alright,” Roman whispered. “You didn’t wake me up, but even if you did… that’s no big deal, Anxiety. I’m not going to get mad at you for anything, okay? You are allowed to leave your room, and no one is going to be upset if you wake them up, I promise you. Come on, sit down, okay? That might be more comfortable for you.”

Virgil nodded shakily, his hands twitching restlessly. He slowly sat down on the floor, pressing his back against the counter behind him. Roman crouched in front of him.

“Now, you remember what Logan told you about your breathing?” Again, Virgil nodded, carefully glancing up at the creative side. “Good, try to focus on that. Should I count with you?” For the third time in a row, Virgil nodded. Having someone to steady his breathing might be better for him, it might be easier. Even if it was Roman.

The prince nodded and softly counted telling Virgil to breathe in, hold his breath, and breathe out. Over and over until it was steady again.

“There we go,” Roman smiled as he got up to get Virgil some water – without dropping the glass, this time. “Do you wanna go to the living room?”

“I- I… guess,” Virgil stuttered softly, his voice still weak. He shakily rubbed the tears from his cheeks and looked up at Roman.

“Want me to help you up?” The prince carefully held out a hand, looking at the trembling side. He still wasn’t sure if the other trusted him enough, but he would respect his decision. To his surprise, Virgil nodded and carefully took his hand. Roman pulled up a corner of his mouth and helped Anxiety to his feet, steading him as he stumbled forwards a bit.

They wordlessly walked to the living room and sat down on the couch. Roman handed Virgil the glass in his hands and Virgil accepted it with a careful smile. He was still trembling like a leaf but at least he had calmed down a bit.

Virgil took a small sip of the water, looking down as he did so. He was terrified of what Roman would do, terrified that he was annoyed with him for having a panic attack.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated with a sniff as he had finished the drink. He didn’t look at Roman as he put the glass down.

“It’s alright, Anxiety,” Roman reassured him gently. “Really. It’s fine.”

Virgil risked a glance at the creative side and sighed nodding slightly. He noticed he was more comfortable being around Roman now that he was dressed in his nightwear, instead of the outfit that looked so much like Pride’s. There still was some caution, but it was as if some sort of… barrier had disappeared.

The two of them didn’t speak for a while, but neither minded. It was late, after all – or early, you could say – and talking seemed like a step too far. Just sitting here was more than enough. Virgil actually appreciated it. Having to talk always felt like there was too much… pressure. While sitting next to each other could be just as comforting.

As he looked down at the sleeves of his purple shirt, Roman looked at Anxiety. He wanted to hurt the other side so badly, but he was afraid of making the wrong moves. He understood that building up trust with the anxious side would take more time than Patton, or even Logan, even if he didn’t know _why_. He was willing to put in the effort needed, but he wished there was more he could do. Even if Anxiety’s guard was slightly lowered now, he still kept his walls up, even after his panic attack. Roman couldn’t blame him, though. He just wished that there was more he could do. But it would take time. He’d have to be patient.

Roman noticed Virgil rubbing his eyes, leaning back against the arm rest of the couch. He slowly blinked a few times, eyes closing slowly, and the prince couldn’t resist a careful smile at how adorable it looked. The side looked absolutely exhausted – and Roman couldn’t blame him; he’d never experienced a panic attack himself, but he knew enough to know that they were draining and exhausting.

“Maybe you should go back to your room, Anxiety,” he mumbled softly, getting only an undecipherable mutter in response as Virgil curled up a bit more. Roman chuckled and kept an eye on the other side. He got up and cleaned up the empty glass on the table, turning off the light in the kitchen as he returned to the living room.

He tried softly calling out to Virgil, but the side was sound asleep, not responding to him.

For a moment, the creative prince considered getting him a blanket and leaving him here, but he couldn’t help but think that that would be _extremely_ uncomfortable for him in the morning. Not to forget that he might want to sleep in after his attack, and he would be woken up by the others entering the living room in the morning.

So, he did what every rational thinking human – or side – would do.

As carefully as he could, he wrapped two arms around the sleeping side, lifting him bridal style as he carried him to his room. Anxiety stiffened a bit at the touch, and Roman feared he would be woken up, but he quickly relaxed again, continuing his much-needed rest.

Roman slowly walked towards Anxiety’s room, pushing the door open with his shoulder. He then carefully placed the smaller side on his bed, covering him with the blankets. Virgil stirred, but it seemed he hadn’t woken up yet, to the prince’s relief.

As he straightened his back, he noticed a small source of light next to the bed. It was a small nightlight, consisting of nothing more than a simple light bulb. It was cute, but… plain. His creativity just _had_ to make something out of it. He wasn’t sure what Virgil would think, but he couldn’t help but immediately think of the perfect idea. Maybe he’d… maybe he’d make it now and show it to the other side the next morning, so they could talk about it. If Virgil would want to talk him again in the morning. That _was_ probably his best shot. He didn’t want Anxiety to think that him making something new was a hidden criticism of his own work. He should probably just bring it up tomorrow.

As softly as he could, Roman got out of the room, making sure not to wake Virgil as he closed the door and he walked to his room to make the nightlight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Panic attack. I think that's all, but let me know if I missed anything!
> 
> Song fragments: The Trial - Pink Floyd

The rest of the night, Virgil slept soundly. No dreams and nightmares haunted him that night. When he woke up, the anxious side was slightly disoriented. He woke up in his room, while he could have sworn he was in the living room when he passed out? Maybe that had just been a dream? Maybe he had fallen asleep again after waking up the first time, and everything that happened after was just a dream? Or maybe he had just… forgotten that he had walked over here?

Pushing aside the thought, Virgil got up to get some breakfast. He was still shaking slightly as he walked down the hall, and he didn’t really feel like facing Roman – he felt like he hadn’t dreamed his breakdown after all, and he wasn’t sure how the creative side would look at him now. But he had to eat, so… he had to go anyways.

The others didn’t greet him any different than usual, he noted as he sat down at the table. Roman didn’t mention last night, and it didn’t feel like the other two sides knew about what had happened. That was good at least.

Virgil ate in silence, not feeling like talking. The others were chatting about… he wasn’t sure about what, actually. He didn’t really follow the conversation. He was too distracted by his own mind.

 

After breakfast, both Roman and Virgil lingered. Anxiety didn’t pay a lot of attention to the others. He hardly even noticed that he was alone with the other side. He was just so… lost in his thoughts.  

“Anxiety,” Roman started hesitantly, standing next to the door, with his hands clasped behind his back, “I- wanted to… ask you… something?”

Virgil flinched slightly, but looked up at the other side anyways, silently asking him to continue. Roman saw this as nodded, taking a careful step closer.

“You see… I- I noticed you had a nightlight, and I-”

At these words, Virgil froze. Oh God. He could not deal with this right now. Roman would yell at him, tell him to get rid of it, or destroy it himself. Shit, shit, no. This was bad.

He shook his head, getting up hastily. “I- I’m sorry,” he stuttered, stumbling back a few steps. “I- I… won’t… p- please don’t…” He wasn’t making any sense, but to be fair… neither were his thoughts. He couldn’t think straight. He was panicking too much.

Roman instinctively reached out to grab Virgil’s arm, but stopped himself before he could. Triggering Virgil even more was the last thing he wanted right now. But even then, even when he stopped himself, he saw Virgil flinching away from him, more on instinct than anything else, and quickly dropped his hand.

“Anxiety, wait,” he quickly called, his heart breaking as he saw the side trembling. Roman could only imagine why on earth he was so terrified – and it hurt to think about it. “It’s okay. I’m not upset, alright? It’s fine.”

Virgil looked at the prince with wide eyes, his hands twitching. God, he felt so weak. He felt like his knees could give in at any moment now. “I- I…” He couldn’t respond. His voice failed at this moment, and every fibre of his body screamed at him to get out. That it was a trap, but he… he refused to believe that. Patton and Logan seemed to trust Roman, and _he_ trusted them, so… why couldn’t he trust him?

“I didn’t mean to alarm you,” Creativity continued, picking his words carefully. “I just thought that… it looked… plain, for a lack of better words. And I… tried something myself? You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, I just… See it as a gift. Do with it what you want to.”

With those words, Roman held his hands in front of him, showing Virgil the nightlight. It was a light, shaped like a small, purple storm cloud with a white lightning bolt. It was meant to go on the wall, with a plug attached.

Anxiety took it in his hands, still shaking, and studied the small light, managing a watery smile. He didn’t look up at Roman, instead keeping is gaze on the gift, tearing up. Roman… made this? For him? He wasn’t going to yell at him for having a night light? He wasn’t going to make fun of it or destroy it? But he… made something? For _him_?

“I- I’m sorry,” Roman rushed, fearing that he might have upset the other side. “You don’t…”

Virgil shook his head with a soft sniff, not looking away from the small light in his hands. Carefully, as if he would break it, he placed the light on the table. Some part of him feared it wasn’t real, or just a joke. No one had ever given him something before. Let alone something they _made_. It felt… surreal. But good at the same time.

At that exact moment, something snapped. Something inside of Virgil… broke. In the brief amount of time he had spent with the light sides, he had gotten more than a lifetime with the dark sides had given him. More than they would _ever_ give him. And that, while the realisation was a relief, stung.

Softly wiping the tears away, Virgil looked up at Roman and, in a movement that surprised both of the sides, hugged him. He buried his face in Roman’s shirt, softly sobbing.

“Thank you,” he muttered in between sobs as the prince carefully wrapped his arms around the shaking side.

“No problem, Anxiety,” the creative trait muttered softly, holding the back of the other side’s head, while the other rubbed his back. “It’s okay.”

Virgil didn’t respond- he _couldn’t_ respond. He functionally couldn’t get another word out in between the muffled sobs. He felt so bad, so _stupid_ , crying to Roman about… he didn’t even know about what. Everything, probably. But it felt bad. He was afraid that he would annoy Roman, that he would push him away. Afraid that the other side would get sick of his whining and leave, or snap at him to grow a spine.

But it didn’t happen. None of it happened. Roman stayed with him, whispered soft words to him, waiting until he calmed down, until he had no more tears to cry. He calmed Virgil, comforted him. Even when Virgil pulled away, and he saw the black stains on his shirt, he didn’t comment on it.

“Sorry,” the anxious side muttered embarrassedly as he pulled away, wiping at his cheeks. He felt embarrassed to let Roman see him like this. Vulnerable, with his cheeks tear-streaked, eyes red. He felt weak and he hated that someone could see him like this.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Roman reassured him gently. “It’s normal to have feelings, you know?”

Virgil’s lips twitched into a split-second smile as he looked at his hands. “It- it’s just…” he started of slowly, his voice cracking a bit. “They ne- they never…”

His breathing hitched at the mere thought of the other sides and he shook his head, eyes wide, as he tried to dismiss the memories.

At the same time, Roman’s heart seemed to stop for just a few moments. He didn’t know why but the mention of ‘them’ stirred something inside him. He didn’t know what. _Something_.

His thoughts were quickly dismissed as he saw Virgil’s panic. Again, he was tempted to grab Virgil’s hand to comfort him, but he didn’t know if the side would allow it, so he decided to hold back.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Anxiety,” the creative prince tried softly, but Virgil shook his head. He felt like he had to. Part of him even _wanted_ to. It felt bad keeping stuff this big from the other sides. If he hid it for too long… they would find out one way or another, and he’d rather they heard it as soon as possible, so if they chose to abandon him… maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.

“They never le- let me h- have a… a… a…” He cut his sentence short, feeling like he wouldn’t manage to finish the sentence in the first place. Roman would understand it, he hoped.

The prince waited for Anxiety to finish the sentence, but this didn’t happen. “What do you mean? A nightlight?” he guessed, looking at the side before him. He had curled in on himself now, making him seem so much smaller than he already was. Virgil nodded, biting his lip. “Why not?”

He tried to understand, he really did. He tried to stay calm, but… it was very difficult to keep his composure right now. He had to, for Virgil but… it was difficult. Even if he had never had to see a dark side – his job didn’t need much input from them, after all – he knew from the others that they were downright assholes. But _what on Earth_ would be their reasoning from this nonsense rule? It seemed clear to him that Anxiety needed, or at the very least _wanted_ a nightlight in his room. Why wouldn’t they let him? As long as there was a good reason for that, he-

“Said it- it was chi- childish.”

Okay, that’s it. They were dead. They were _so dead_. He was going to kill them this very second.

“What?”

Virgil nodded weakly. “It’s st- stupid to be.. a- af- afr… scared o- of the dark.”

“Of course it’s not,” Roman told the side softly. “No fear is stupid! Everyone is scared of something! It’s not stupid, Anxiety, it’s valid, it’s okay. And having a nightlight to help you isn’t childish. It’s perfectly acceptable, and _they_ are wrong. You’re not stupid for being scared of the dark. Or scared of anything, really. It’s alright, Anxiety.”

Virgil didn’t respond, just giving Roman a weak smile. He tried his best to believe Roman’s words, he really wanted to believe them, but… it was difficult to do so.

Softly, Roman helped Virgil calm down, gently talking to him until he was at least able to breathe again. Just like a few days ago, Roman silently got Virgil a glass of water, sitting down next to him. The other side was very clearly distressed, and Roman hated the fact that he couldn’t help. He wanted to, but there was no way to do so without asking questions, and he didn’t want to do that to Anxiety at this moment.

“Do you need anything, Anxiety?” the prince asked gently, looking at the still trembling side before him. Virgil cautiously shook his head.

“No, th- thanks,” he murmured. “I- I’ll just go… t- to my room, i- if that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay,” Roman responded. “If you’re sure… But we’re here if you need anything, okay? Just ask, we won’t get upset for it.” He added the last part, just to let Virgil know it was okay to ask things. He wanted the other to know that they would help him wherever possible, because they _would_. And he hoped that Virgil would believe it, that he would see it was okay to ask for help. Because God knows what the dark sides had told him. They weren’t the supportive types, that was for sure.

Virgil nodded slightly as he got up, shooting Roman a weak, unsure smile. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Thanks.”

 

A few more days had passed, and the other sides noticed that Virgil hardly left his room. He would occasionally join them for breakfast, but he didn’t show his face at dinner anymore, and they didn’t see him walking around a lot. The only proof he existed outside of that, was the fact that they saw the number of granola bars slowly shrinking. Roman, being the one who saw him last before his disappearance, felt guilt and worry. Maybe his idea to gain Virgil’s trust had been stupid, after all. Maybe the anxious side didn’t want to see him anymore. At least he still got food from this side of the mind, meaning he hadn’t gone back to the dark sides. That was… something.

The three other light sides had softly discussed what Roman had learned from Virgil, hoping that the side would not choose this exact time to walk in on them. Of course, they never thought the dark sides had treated him… _well_. Patton had known from the second he saw the guy. But Roman’s revelation had proven this was more… serious than they had thought. Yet still, they weren’t sure exactly what he had been through, but they didn’t even want to imagine. Roman was so ready to get his sword and shish-kebab the three dark sides, and to be fair… Patton and Logan didn’t even want to stop him. They had to – after all, the sudden death of three sides would hugely affect Thomas, in ways they couldn’t even imagine – but they didn’t _want_ to. No one deserved what Virgil undoubtedly had to live through, and they didn’t want the dark sides to not face any consequences. But they couldn’t run into this impulsively. After all, they knew what the dark sides could be like. They had to be careful with this.

 

_Good morning, Worm your honour_

_The crown will plainly show_

_The prisoner, now stands before you_

_Was caught red-handed showing feelings_

_Showing feelings of an almost human nature_

_This will not do_

 

Meanwhile, Virgil spend as much time in his room as he could. He was terrified of facing the other sides. Especially Roman. He hadn’t seen him since his breakdown, and he didn’t know if he wanted to. He was quite embarrassed, to be fair. Roman had seen him breaking down over a stupid fucking light. A light that he had now attached to the wall. It looked quite pretty, and the fact that Roman made this for him, without questioning the reason… while odd, it meant a lot to him.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid to face Roman. That didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid to face the others. Would the prince have told them about his breakdown? About the things he had said? And… what were they thinking about him? What if they were secretly making fun of him for his stupid, irrational fear?

He wanted to know, but… he didn’t. He wanted to see them, but… he didn’t.

He was just too damn afraid of their responses. Too damn afraid of being pushed away. Of being ridiculed again. He didn’t want to go back to the way it was with the dark sides. He couldn’t handle that. Not when he’d just started to feel more comfortable with the others. But chances are he’d screwed it up anyways. Either the others would think less of him for his fear of the dark, or he would have pushed them away by closing himself off from them for so long. He’d ruined this anyways.

But he couldn’t keep avoiding them. And he couldn’t keep hiding the truth from them. By not telling them about what the dark sides did, he was lying to them – lies of omission, Deceit had pretty much drilled that in his head – and lying was bad. It wasn’t _his_ job. He couldn’t lie to them. He had to tell them at some point. Maybe it would hurt less if they decided to abandon him now. Before he got _too_ attached to them – though he feared he might already be ‘too attached’.

_Since, my friend, you have revealed_

_Your deepest fear_

_I sentence you to be exposed before your peers._

 

They… deserved to know right? They deserved to know what they were dealing with, right?

 

_Tear down the wall_

 

He would have to tell them.

He had no choice.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Crying, some strong language, I think that’s it!
> 
> Notes: This chapter is a little shorter than I would like it to be tbh, but I was very clear on what I wanted and how I wanted to end it so… here you go haha

Virgil didn’t want to. God, he was so anxious. He was absolutely terrified of how the others would react. He knew he had to tell them. Even though he hated it… he had to. They had to know. They deserved to know. Even if it terrified and the mere thought of having to talk to them nearly gave him a panic attack. They had to know.

So, a few days after he had come to this conclusion, Virgil nervously knocked on Patton’s door. It took the moral side just a few moments to open the door.

“Anxiety!” Patton beamed as he saw the side in front of his door. “Hey! How can I help you, kiddo?”

Virgil nodded, biting his lip. “I- eh… yeah, can you- can you tell the others to… to come to th- the living room? I… I got something to… yeah.”

“Yeah, yeah of course!” the moral trait nodded. “Are you okay, Anx?”

“Fine,” the anxious side answered. “Just… anxious, I suppose.”

Patton hummed softly. “That’s okay,” he assured the other. “Go to the living room, I’ll get the others, alright?”

Virgil nodded and thanked Patton. He would have asked the others himself, but he was scared that even that would be too much. He knew Patton would help him. Patton was a total sweetheart. If anyone would be on his side, it would be Patton.

 

So, Virgil made his way to the living room. He sat down on the couch, nervously toying with the sleeves of his hoodie. If only everything would go alright.

Logan was the first to enter. He nodded at Virgil, greeting him gently when he noticed how tense the other side was. He sat down in his usual chair, not wanting to push the other too much. However, he didn't speak up, and Virigl found that he was relieved at this. He wasn't exactly in the mood for small talk at the moment. 

Not much after that, Roman and Patton entered together. Patton sat down next to Virgil. Not so close that he made the anxious trait uncomfortable, but close enough that he could comfort him if he needed to.

“You wanted to tell us something, Anxiety?” Roman asked carefully as he sat down on one of the other chairs.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah…” He looked at Patton, holding out a hand – it was shaking, he noticed. Morality noticed this and understood the hint, taking the outstretched hand in both his own.

“It’s okay, Anxiety,” he whispered. “We’re here.”

Virgil managed a smile and took a deep breath, scooting a bit closer to Patton. Then, he told the others everything they had to know about… the dark sides. Well... he didn't tell  _everything_. Only whatever he was comfortable with. He left out a few things here and there. And he cried, a few times. He panicked, but the others – especially Patton – helped him calm down. They let him tell his story, told him he could stop if he wanted to. They didn’t yell at him, they didn’t insult or laugh at him. They were just… supportive. They were  _there_.

 

By the end of the story, Virgil was curled up at Patton’s side, with one of Patton’s arms wrapped around his waist, the other rubbing his back.

It was so quiet. It was… tense. The others had to take in all of this, he understood that. His anxiety absolutely _hated_ this, though. He just wanted them to respond. To say what they had to.

“Anxiety,” Patton whispered, his voice seemingly breaking. “I’m so sorry you… I'm so sorry you had to deal with that… but you’re safe here, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He pulled Virgil a little closer, and the anxious side made a soft but content noise, snuggling closer into the comforting touch. It was warm, and… nice.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, shoulders still shaking ever so slightly. “I- they…” He interrupted himself, letting out a soft sob.

“It’s okay, Anx, it’s okay.” Patton rubbed Virgil’s back as he continued to whisper comforting words to the crying side. His heart broke, at the scene before him, but also at the news. It hurt him to think about what the other would have had to go through, and he just wished he could turn back time. Make it all undone.

“Anxiety…” Roman was the next to speak up. He seemed… conflicted. Thinking about something, confused. “That’s… horrible. No one should have to deal with that, are you- Patton is right. You’re safe. I will do anything I can to protect you. And if you need anything… just ask. We’re here for you.”

Virgil nodded as he shifted so he could shoot Roman a quick smile.

“Thanks,” he whispered hoarsely. Logan remained silent, but Virgil knew well enough that he shared the sentiment. He just wasn’t an emotional guy. It was fine. When he looked at the logical side, he knew that he agreed with everything Roman and Patton had said. And that was more than enough. It meant the world to him.

 

It was silent for a while, Roman quietly got Virgil a glass of water while Patton rubbed Virgil’s back. Virgil himself shot the prince a few hesitant glances, but he looked away quickly, only to look up at him a second later.

“You look like him,” Virgil eventually informed him softly, looking down at the scars on the palms of his hands. He eyed Roman for a second, but quickly averted his eyes.

Roman just… blinked at him. “What?”

Anxiety sighed. “Pride.”

“I look like Pride?”

Virgil nodded, leaning into Patton’s shoulder as the moral trait exchanged a look with Logan, unnoticed by the two others. “I’m sorry,” he said, shifting slightly in Patton’s grip. “It’s stupid, but…”

“No, no, it’s not,” Roman interrupted with a shake of his head. “It’s not stupid, Anxiety. It’s alright.” He stopped for a moment, looking down at his hands on his knees, clearly thinking of what to say. “I can tell you for sure than I am not him. And if I… do anything… _wrong_ , just let me know, okay? I will do my best to stop it.”

“Of course,” Virgil said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Roman smiled. “I don’t wanna hurt you in any way. I can change my outfit, if that would be easier for you.”

Anxiety shook his head. “No, I… can deal with it. I’m sorry, it’s just… difficult. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a trouble, though,” he reassured the other. “If you want me to… there is another design I’ve been wanting to try out for a while! It sorta looks like this but… it’s different, so…”

He trailed off, looking at Virgil expectantly. However, Virgil’s response was just a small shrug. He thought he might prefer it if Roman did change his outfit, but… he was scared of saying so. It was probably stupid of him to feel this way. After all, Roman did _offer_. He did say it wasn’t any trouble. Then why did Virgil _still_ feel like he would be a burden for suggesting that it might be more comfortable for him if Roman did change? Why was he like this? Why did he do this?

 

“I’ll do it then,” the prince decided gently, as if he had read Virgil's mind. “Can’t hurt to try.”

Virgil nodded, but didn’t speak. He just leaned into Patton’s comforting touch a bit more.

“It’s incredibly brave of you to tell us this, Anxiety,” the moral side told him softly. “It can’t have been easy.”

Virgil managed a smile in response, but he still didn’t talk. He couldn’t find the energy to talk. On the one hand, he wanted to stay here, cuddled up to Patton and fall asleep. But on the other hand, he wanted to get up and run away, so he could hide in his room and the other sides could… do whatever they wanted. They could cut him out of their lives if they so desired. They could drop their acts of sympathy, if that was what was happening here. They could do whatever.

However, Virgil had been so drained by today's events, that he didn't even get a choice. The exhaustion made him fall asleep before he even knew what was going on.

 

Later that day, Roman had retreated to his room, giving him the time he needed to just… think things through. Lately, he had been plagued by questions, and Anxiety’s revelations only brought up more questions. He had been trying to find an answer to the questions, and now, he had a possible solution. It made sense, but… it didn’t. He needed answers, and he knew _he_ wasn’t in the position to give those answers. He was lacking in knowledge. He needed help.

That is why he found himself knocking on Logan’s door, bouncing his feet impatiently as he waited for the logical side to answer to his knocks, hands clasped behind his back.

“Roman,” Logan greeted him when he opened the door, clearly confused at the prince's presence. “How may I help you?”

“Can I come in?” the prince asked quickly. “I… have something I need to ask you.”

Logan nodded slowly, taking a few steps to the side. “Of course. Come in.”

“Thank you,” Roman grinned as he stepped inside. Now, the nerves seemed to be coming up. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he was nervous. Maybe even scared? He dreaded the answers Logan would give him to his questions. If he’d say what he expected… this might not turn out pretty. But at least it would give him a definitive answer to his questions. At least he wouldn't be stuck thinking about it. But then again… he'd have different questions to ask himself even then. 

Roman didn't know what he was hoping for. 

Logic closed the door and looked at Creativity. “What is it that you needed to ask me, Roman?”

The creative prince jumped up and turned around, facing his friend. “Yeah, okay, eh…” He hesitated for a moment, looking down at his hands. “I was wondering... I had some questions, and… can you tell me more about… about Pride?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: anxiety, nyctophobia, self doubt, self loathing, lots of doubts in general

He didn’t understand. Why didn’t he remember? With everything that Logan had told him about Pride, with everything he had pieced together himself, there was one logical conclusion. But he didn’t understand why he couldn’t remember. Was he wrong? Or he overlooking something? _Why didn’t he remember?_

It was driving him crazy. It didn’t make sense. Something didn’t add up. If he was correct, the other sides had been present ever since Thomas was born. Even Anxiety was around before he joined them; only he was on the other side of the mind. That was what he had heard.

Then why didn’t it go for him? Why did he have _no_ memory of anything beyond the past year? He didn’t remember Thomas’ childhood, his teenage years. Why didn’t he remember? What was wrong with him? Why was it different for him?

Why

Didn’t

He

_Remember?_

Clearly, he hadn’t figured out everything there was to find out. Clearly, he needed to do more research. Something was missing, but he didn’t know what. And it was driving him crazy.

 

A few weeks passed, and Virgil noticed a few changes in the other sides. He noticed that they were more careful around him, as if they were too afraid to break him – he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. He noticed they were mindful of his triggers, and reassured or comforted him if they noticed he acted… off – which he was actually grateful for. But the most noticeable difference, was that Roman was… absent. He was in his room a lot, or he slipped into Logan’s room, emerging a few moments later, holding a book or a binder. It was as if he was looking for something, but Virgil never asked what it was. He was scared that it had to do with him, but… he didn’t dare to ask. He was too afraid of what the answer would be.

Time passed, and Virgil just started to feel more comfortable with the others… knowing. It was a dreadfully slow process, but tiny bit by tiny bit, Virgil was coming to terms with his past, and he was slowly trying to move on. Even though it felt like it was impossible. Every time he thought he was moving forwards, something came along to knock him all the way back to where he began. The others were so terribly supportive, and Virgil felt like he didn’t deserve them, but he was happy they were there nonetheless.

For the most part, that is.

 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He kept feeling like Roman was hiding something from him. Even when his strange escapades to Logan’s room stopped, even when he stopped hiding in his room, Virgil felt like there was something he was hiding. And it had to do with _him_. Roman might be a good actor, but there were things even the best actor couldn’t hide. There was something in his eyes every time he looked at Virgil. Something that felt like a mixture of Roman’s gentleness and something like… guilt. But no matter how much he tried, Virgil couldn’t think of anything the prince would feel guilty about. He wasn’t even sure if it was _real_. Maybe he was just too paranoid. The dark sides did occasionally tell him he was being too paranoid. Maybe he was just too scared of something bad happening.

He didn’t know. A part of him hoped that he was wrong. He hated the thought of Roman hiding something from him. especially _about him_. The thought alone made his breath get short and uneven and his brain would start thinking about what he could possibly be hiding.

But at the same time, a part of him wanted him to be right. Just so that the dark sides wouldn’t be right about him. If it meant that he wasn’t too paranoid for his own good… then he wanted to be right. He didn’t want _them_ to be right about him. He had spent so much time trying to convince himself that they were wrong. If they turned out to be right…

He didn’t want to think about what that would mean.

 

One particular night, Virgil was laying in his bed, trying to fall asleep, but failing. His mind was too busy, thinking of everything and nothing. His anxiety had been particularly shitty that day. The feeling like something was off lingered wherever he was, even when he was listening to Roman rambling about the new video ideas the creative side had gotten. Every unexpected movement made him flinch. He was more on edge than he had been lately, and the others noticed. They didn’t say it, but Virgil knew they did.

And even now, when he was trying to fall asleep, his mind wouldn’t give him a break. The shadows the nightlight cast on his walls were terrifying, and for a few moments, the anxious trait considered turning on the big light of his room. But then he realised that it meant having to get out of his bed, and that terrified him even more than the shadows did. Having to get up, walk through the dark to the switch… anything could sneak up on him. So, no. He was going to have to suffer through this.

Virgil wasn’t sure what time it was, but it felt like he had been awake for a century. And still… he couldn’t fall asleep. He looked over at his nightlight, smiling slightly at the first real gift he had ever gotten. Roman really was a nerd, wasn’t he? Sweet and more considerate than he seemed to let on but still-

His thoughts were interrupted by the movement of a shadow on his wall. Virgil tensed up, staring at the wall. The movement had stopped, and everything was back to normal. As if it never happened, but it… did… right? He _saw_ it, he was looking at it when it happened. It couldn’t have been a figment of his imagination, could it?

He could have sworn he felt a breath on his neck, heard a laugh behind him. But there was nothing there. There was no one there. Nothing was out of place. He was alone, and everything in his room was as it should be.

But Virgil couldn’t stay. He hated the dark, but he hated these- these tricks even more, and he would gladly run through the dark if it meant getting away from… whatever this was. Staying in… in _this_ would drive him crazy. It reminded him too much of Deceit and his mind games. And after all this time away from them, Virgil wasn’t sure he could handle this.

So, the anxious side rushed out of his room – but not after mentally preparing himself for facing the darkness. The hallway was silent and dark, and Virgil felt his breath hitching as he looked at it. He nearly felt nauseous when he saw the looming corridor, but he knew he couldn’t stay in his room. Not alone. It was suffocating and terrifying and he wouldn’t be able to deal with it by himself. It was probably stupid to disturb the others in the middle of the night, but he was too scared to face this alone. He didn’t want to go all over this again.

Virgil carefully edged forwards, sticking to the wall – just so nothing could sneak up on him. Every single step he made was frightening, led him away from his relatively safe room. But he couldn’t really… go back.

He had just passed Logan’s room when he could have sworn he had felt a breath on his neck, and he heard a whisper in his ear. A whisper that almost sounded like… Deceit, but…

He couldn’t be here. Right?

 

Virgil felt his heart thumping* wildly in his chest and he sped up his pace. This was getting too much for him. His mind was playing tricks on him, making him think there were things when there was nothing there. Maybe the dark sides were right about him. Maybe he _was_ too paranoid.

His breathing was speeding up, and he felt more nauseous with every second he stayed here. The feeling of being watched crept up on him and wouldn’t disappear, but there was no one there. He was alone in the hallway, surrounded by only darkness and the vague voice that wouldn’t stop sounding like Deceit’s.

With a deep breath, the anxious trait continued until he stopped in front of Patton’s room, reluctantly stepping forwards to knock on his door. He really hated doing this, but he really needed someone, too. And he didn’t think Patton would mind. He… he _hoped_ he wouldn’t mind.

The knock was soft, but in the silent hallway, it sounded unbelievably loud, and Virgil couldn’t help but wince at hearing this. He nervously waited for something to happen. Seconds seemed like hours and he couldn’t stay here any longer. The darkness was suffocating and he was being watched and the voices _still didn’t stop_ and…

“Anx?” The anxious side flinched as he heard Patton’s soft voice. He hadn’t even noticed that the door opened. “Kiddo, what’s up?”

The moral trait immediately turned on the light, knowing that Virgil would prefer that to the darkness.

“Can I… can I come in? Please?” Virgil carefully looked up at Patton, half expecting the other trait to turn him away, despite knowing that Patton would never do such a thing.

“Yeah, of course!” the other nodded, immediately stepping aside. “Come in! Did something happen?”

Virgil shrugged as he walked in. Patton had sounded so worried, and it made Virgil feel so bad. He hated worrying the other sides, he hated bothering them. He shouldn’t get so worked up over something so stupid, but it just… scared him. It was dumb, he knew that. He wasn’t a fucking child anymore, he should be able to handle this by himself. But he couldn’t and Patton probably thought he was an idiot for knocking at his door in the middle of the night, but he just really needed someone right now so he wasn’t sure he really cared.

As soon as he stepped into the room, Virgil felt a bit safer. At least the whispers stopped, and he didn’t feel as uncomfortable as before. “I just… I didn’t feel… great,” Anxiety whispered, not daring to look at Patton as he did so, as if he was afraid of how the other would respond. And honestly… he probably was. “Sorry for- for disturbing you, I pro- probably woke you up but… but I just wanted to- to…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Virge,” Patton said gently, guiding Virgil to sit down. The door was left open ever so slightly, and Virgil kind of hated it, even though he knew it was for the best. The room wouldn’t affect him as much as long as the door was open. But it still made him super anxious to know that anyone could simply walk in if they so desired. “I’m not upset. I’m here, okay? So… did anything happen? Or just…?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice soft and shaking. “I just… thought I saw something and…” He shook his head as he stopped. Patton seemed to notice that Virgil wasn’t okay to continued talking and crouched in front of his friend.

“Is it okay if I hug you?” Virgil nodded quickly, without even giving it a second thought. Patton’s hugs just had something… comfortable. They always managed to calm Virgil down. It was as if the moral trait new exactly what Virgil needed, and how to make him feel better. Even without him saying a word, Patton knew. And this time was no exception.

Patton immediately noticed that Virgil was shaking badly, and his heart broke again. He loved Virgil so much, and he hated it to see him in a state like this. He was fairly sure that there was something going on, more than Virgil had shared with him, but he didn’t want to push. If Virgil felt comfortable enough, he would share it, and otherwise, Patton was okay with waiting. He didn’t want to force Virgil into doing anything.

“Sweetheart, you’re trembling,” Patton whispered, and Virgil flinched slightly at the use of the nickname. He had gotten more comfortable with them, but they still reminded him of the dark sides, and it was still a… sensitive spot. “Sorry, sorry. Should I get you anything to drink?”

Virgil shook his head immediately, the prospect of being alone again terrifying him. “Can you… can you stay? Please?”

“Of course, if you want me to stay, I will stay,” Patton nodded, gently running his hands through the younger side’s hair. “I’m here for you.”

 

For a while, the two of them just… talked. Patton tried to make Virgil feel better, and slowly but surely, it worked. Virgil was still anxious, and slightly uneasy, but… better. He even was starting to feel tired.

When Patton noticed the other side repressing a yawn, he grinned. “Getting tired, kiddo?” he asked with a fond smile. “Maybe you should go to sleep.”

But Virgil shook his head, too afraid to go to sleep. He was terrified of what would happen if he went back to his room.

“Well, you can’t stay up, Anx,” the moral trait pressed gently. “You can stay here, if you want to? If that will help?”

Anxiety carefully looked up, staring at Patton for a second or two as he considered this. That might actually… help. Patton did always have a comforting effect on him. so maybe… he could try it? “Is that- would that be okay?”

“But of course!” Patton nodded. “I wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t okay.”

“Alright,” Virgil whispered, looking away as he did. “Alright. Yeah, sure.”

And that’s how the two of them ended up curled up in Patton’s bed. Virgil found that Patton’s heartbeat and the sensation of his arms around him was greatly comforting. As if the other side protected him from any bad feelings and mind games that might be trying to get to him. He had never felt as safe as he felt right then and right there. Even Patton’s familiar scent felt… safe. And in that feeling of safety, he quickly managed to fall asleep, not haunted by any dreams or worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead!! I haven't had a lot of time or motivation to write lately, but I think I might be able to get into it some more now, so :)))

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Here is another fic of mine, which is… yeah it’s probably going to be bad, but the warnings gave that away I think. I was in a really bad angst mood when I started this and I am so sorry lmao. I am constantly questioning my actions.  
> The idea of Pride was inspired by a fic of @dreamsshadowwashere on Tumblr, but this is completely my own interpretation obviously, I just liked the idea of Pride and the way it could fit my plot


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